There are many patterns in my life it seems. Many hidden pictures, subtle indicators.

Hidden pictures, subtle indicators which – when noticed – tell us that things are not quite what they may at first appear.

Hm. I wonder if you have the same? Perhaps you do and are aware of them. Or perhaps you do and are not quite aware of them?

One such pattern, with hidden pictures and subtle indicators is that sometimes – actually often – I experience episodes where my mental health slowly slips. Doing so in such a way as not to arise any major concern on anyone’s part. Just slowly, gradually, until I reach a point where I mentally withdraw and where my mind slips into ‘auto-pilot’ mode. The mode where I am; simply surviving, simply being, simply (and only basically) functioning. Aimless and purposeless and without direction, lost within the confused fussiness of whatever is happening within.

To all intents and purposes I appear to be fine. And, thanks to the ‘auto-pilot’ mode I have switched into – often unknowingly and yet sometimes (I must admit) deliberately in order to not cause concern to others or in an attempt to seem fine whilst I process what it going on – to the casual onlooker I appear to be just fine. And yet that is far from the truth.

It is a ‘pattern’ because of it’s reoccurring frequency in my life. And last night – well actually about four this morning – I realised that I am yet again just coming out of such an episode. And so the ‘catch-up’ and ‘repair’ process begins.

And to be absolutely honest I have no idea what caused this latest episode – nor do I know how long it has lasted.

But I do know is that is was in some way linked to my physical health and that due in part to both I had withdrawn – both mentally and physically.

And I do know – as along with this early morning’s realisation that I had once again withdrawn and slipped into ‘auto-pilot’ mode – came the realisation that I had also – once again – not been alone during all this time.

Now for all my Christian brothers and sisters who might be reading this post and who might therefore be thinking that this is the point where I introduce my faith and the fact that Christ and the indwelling Holy Spirit were with me. Yes of course this is true. My faith was always there and I have no doubt that Christ and the indwelling Holy Spirit was also right there with me.

But that is the thing about mental illness and with having difficulties with your mental health. Those facts often get somehow distorted, somehow faded, dimmed, perhaps the best description is that the become gradually eclipsed (not like where one celestial body does to another but as with clouds blocking out the sun) until they become concealed, taken and robbed from you.

Your connection with them – just like your connection with true awareness – becomes somehow stretched – concealed and even consumed. As if within your mind, within your cognitive awareness of it all – foggy night has fallen.

And within that ‘night-state’, within the grey fogginess of it all the ‘old man’ comes a calling. The ‘old man’ – those suicidal thoughts which ever linger – who has been ‘waiting for the night to fall’, finds stronger, clearer, more convincing a voice. And more receptive a target.

For in this your ‘night-state’ he has your attention, he has connection in your solitude – even your sometimes self-imposed solitude or sometime self-inflicted confusion.

Let’s make no mistake here. And let’s not try to dismiss or diminish the importance of this with twee comments or seemingly Christ-centred and yet actually all too often compassion-less and thus Christ-less platitudes or clichés. It is a terrible, potentially tragic state of mind to be in, to fall or slip into. And let’s be very real in acknowledging that actually it is one where escape is often far less possible than rescue.

Isolation and solitude can be potential killers. I am convinced of this. It something – a truth – of which I have long since been aware of. And yet a truth which I often lose sight of and often slip away from. And just like the truth that Christ and the indwelling Holy Spirit are always – subject to the unthinkable of course – there for the believer, it is a truth which needs feeding, which needs recognising and holding onto.

Actually it is a truth – these are truths – which I have thankfully, I think, been becoming more and more aware of as I started to come out of this latest episode. And so the task now becomes (once again) repairing any damage that may have been done during this last episode and catching up with things in order to get to a state where we can once more progress. Where once again the light – the strength that comes from that light – becomes the focus and the direction provider.

In truth I don’t know how long it will be before the pattern repeats itself. How long, if at all – and I am, as always, praying that the pattern ends here – before the next slip. And I remain ever hopeful (well outside of these episodes where hope, along with that awareness of the light, seems to fade) that this pattern will one day end.

But I am painfully aware that I am not the only one who experiences such episodes, who experiences such hopelessness. That I am not the only one for whom ‘the ‘old man’ comes a calling.’ So to all those out there for whom ‘the old man comes a calling’ I want to share that there really is hope. A hope which is worth fighting for and which is – despite the night – real and true and also available to you.

And for those who have never experienced something like what I have – albeit inadequately – tried to explain here, I want to invite you to put aside your preconceived ideas or opinions and to – just for a few minutes – try to imagine what it must be like.

And for both – those who have experienced something along the lines of what I have described above and those who haven’t – I would like you to invite you to view and listen to the following video by Casting Crowns and to – whilst you do so – focus and reflect on the lyrics and message of this song.

I am grateful for the ‘dawn’ that came in the small hours of this morning. And I pray that others may find a ‘dawn’. For some, like myself, some of the lyrics of this song may be hard to take and yet truth can sometime be like that can’t it? But whichever way it speaks to you. I truly hope it blesses you.

For me personally – this side of the dawn – I cannot in, all honesty, say that the old man is dead, but I can say that I am not willing to feats at his table or listen to his lies. And I can at least say that I once again have seem to have the strength and the clarity of thought to let the light grow once more.

When I sat at my computer determining whether or not I really did want to write this post – I can’t speak for other ‘bloggers’ but for me personally sometimes there is some deliberation that takes place between the idea and the execution when it comes to blogging. And to be truthful today I really wasn’t sure I was up to writing this posts.

You see thoughts are mainly private and thus there is an apparent safety in them. I say ‘apparent’ because not all thoughts – certainly not mine at least – are safe or healthy. But in the main, they remain fairly harmless unless you either a) act upon them or b) in some cases, share them.

And smiles, when it comes to the latter of those two – the sharing of them – can be the same, can’t they?

In truth I could smile all day long in the solitude of my home and it would effect or (as the above image suggests) confuse no-one. (Other than my dog TJ perhaps. LOL)

But the minute I share that smile with someone else, it has all the potential – does it not – of having an impact on them. Unless of course they are so pre-occupied with other things (or other thoughts) that they really don’t notice. But then arguably the process of sharing of the smile is incomplete.

Smiles are all around us, aren’t they? I live in Ireland and you only have to walk down any street and pass folk and you are still sure to be greeted in one friendly fashion or another. (Something which I have noticed does sadly appear to be in the decline) And usually with a smile. But are those smiles real or are they often masks that people wear as a result of social etiquette or as a result of other people’s expectations?

Some smiles are – let’s say – simply natural, an involuntary or subconscious bi-product of how a person is feeling. Maybe long-term in existence or momentary and fleeting as a result of some thought or event which has just happened.

But other smiles, well they are more deliberate, more connived, more manufactured. Placed on the face of the wearer by the wearer as a result of deliberate thought and with a deliberate purpose in mind. To offer you the viewer what you want or (as is often the case) to dissuade you the viewer from seeking deeper knowledge or further information.

And there is very little wrong with offering others a smile when they expect it or want it. Is there? Or when you simply can’t face or bring yourself to explain or share the hurting or the depression that you are really feeling?

After all, not everyone cares or wants or even needs to know about the depression you are going through. Or the hurting you have inside. And indeed not everyone should know about it. Trust me on this, there are those out there who would do so much damage if they did know.

But what about your desperate need for some to know? Someone to understand? Someone to still accept you, even love you, despite that depression, those thoughts, that hurting?

And what about those who should know? Those who should be told, who should be there for you at such times. Those for whom the truth and your ‘freedom to be real’ should be more important than social norms or everything ‘appearing rosy in the garden of life’.

I cannot even begin the explain or describe the importance of having someone in your life with whom you can be real – especially if you do suffer from depression (in any of it’s forms). Some person, a friend or a loved one, a family member, who will not only offer you the freedom to be real but who also accepts you and yes who still loves you when you are real.

The problem is that sadly, unless you suffer from depression, in one of it’s various forms, it is so very hard to understand (and thus to fully relate to) what it is like. Which is why I believe that online communities such as the Mental Health Writers Guild and blogs such as this one are so important.

Because all too often even those who really do care and who do still try to understand and love you through the difficult times. Those times when despite your best efforts you cannot escape the impact of the (often altered) realities depression forces upon you. Can’t understand and feel so helpless. They stand – if you like – at the edge of a world in which they see you suffering and which they know they cannot truly enter in order to try to ease your suffering. No matter how much they may want or need to. Or at the edge of a world which you seem to have suddenly forced upon them and which they do not understand. Of course for the person – like me – who suffers the depression and who is involuntarily going through that latest episode it is not a case of forcing our world on others but of desperately trying to reach out from within it and be held, be accepted, be understood, be loved.

And so all too often we try to hide that world in which you cannot belong, should not belong. We try to protect you from the world we know we cannot protect ourselves from. And often we do so by hiding that world behind a smile. Behind a mask. After all, is not a smile far more acceptable than a sign which reads (as my mind [Mini Mental Me] often tells me I am) “Danger! – walking Minefield – Keep Clear!”.

For me personally – as a Christian who suffers from mental illness – I see the smile (and yes even the laughter) that I try to offer others, not as a lie or a mask to hide the pain or the depression within. But more as a way of my offering my Christ and the joy that He offers me despite my mental health issues.

But I do need and want to be very real and very honest here. Sometime my depression and my mental health smothers and impacts me so much that even my finding my Christ and my faith – which has brought me through this far – is so very hard. And so yes, sometimes my smile, my laughter and joking, is indeed a mask to hide that which I don’t think you either need or want to see. And I am certainly not alone in this and certainly not the only one who struggles and yet paints on ‘the smiling face of depression.’

Yesterday would have been, had he still been alive, Robin William’s 64th birthday. But of course tragically he isn’t still alive, as on August 11th last year he took his own life. An act which shocked millions of people and which begged many a question concerning depression and suicide. As well as how someone so famous, someone so well known; for his sense of humour, for his comedy, for spreading such happiness, could get to a place where he would take such a step.

Questions which in many ways, or so it seems to this writer, were like the rolling credits at the end of one of his numerous movies. Noticed but hardly considered by many and soon forgotten by many many more. But questions – none the less – which so very much still require asking and which each one of us would do well to consider.

Robin was, as I said, such a gifted entertainer, such a gifted actor, such a gifted comedian. In many ways he was such a loveable clown.

And that, it has to be said was one of the problems. For that is the way we all saw him, was it not? That is the expectation we had of him and the expectation we placed on him. That is what we expected to see and thus, perhaps, all that we looked for.

And whilst I recognise that Robin was to so many of us ‘a celebrity’ and thus a detached and almost untouchable figure. I find myself asking the questions, “But what about those who aren’t so detached, or so untouchable to us?” “What about our friends, our family, our neighbours?” “What about our work colleagues, school or college mates?” “What about that guy or that woman at our church?” Are we not perhaps also guilty of placing expectations on them? Are we not perhaps also guilty of seeing them in certain ways and only seeing or looking for what we expect to see?

You see in many ways I can relate to Robin Williams. In many ways and to a lot of folk perhaps and to some extent, I am that clown. I am that entertainer.

In many ways I am that joker. And yet, just like Robin, I also struggle with depression and yes at times, and I am not afraid to admit it, with suicidal thoughts.

And in truth, I am that friend, that family member, that neighbour, that guy at church, who many folk see a certain way and yet never venture to ask or look beyond what they first see or what I first present.

And thus they never get to know about – or have an impact on – that depression, or on those suicidal thoughts which often plague me.

That is not to say that ‘one or two’ don’t know about my depression or my suicidal thoughts. But what about all the others? Is there a reason (or reasons why they remain oblivious to these struggles?

For some, I think, it is a case of being too busy to have time to ask, or to look beyond what they first see.

For others, it is perhaps a fear of rejection or of being shot down in flames and having their caring – their compassion, thrown back in their face.

For some it is simply not knowing how to approach the subject. And yet for others, perhaps it is a fear that actually if they do dare to ask – if they do dare to venture beyond what they first see with someone – that person might do the same in return and then they would have to be honest and face the truth in themselves?

But what ever the reason for never venturing beyond what we first see, something just has to change if we are to truly tackle and combat such issues as depression and suicidal thoughts. In truth we cannot simply sit back and leave it to others or rely on that person’s faith or their strength of character or their will power. And we cannot be lulled into – or allow ourself to remain blinded to, or indeed simply be persuaded by – the masks that others put on in order to ‘survive’, or ‘exist’ or to please others.

Something which I feel most bloggers experience at one point or another, and certainly a read through other blogger’s blogs would seem to confirm this, is writer’s block.

So here I am, having not posted anything on this blog since April, sat in my study, coffee to one side and keyboard in front of me determined to reach out ‘beyond the block‘ which has been oppressing me of late.

“Oppressing me of late“. Now there’s an interesting way of putting it, isn’t it? Webster’s offers a number of different definitions of the word ‘oppression’, one of which being – “A sense of being weighed down in body or mind.” and certainly that definition would seem very apt for what I have been feeling of late. (Although I personally, as a Christian, would want to add to that definition, but more of that later.)

This blog (like so many of the blogs which I read) focusses on Mental Health and is a way of my sharing my experiences with my mental health in the hope of; a) understanding my mental health more and b) helping others to understand mental health more. Mental health which can, let’s be clear about this, present the sufferer with a whole plethora of different experiences and of different highs and lows.

So when a mental health writer (such as I) experiences what many writers would simply consider or label “Writer’s Block” it is important, I feel, to look beyond that ‘block’ and to consider both where that block came from and indeed, what it signifies or indicates.

You see, something which I personally have come to realise, and something which we all (in my opinion would be wise to consider when such blocks appear) is that it is possible that something has happened which has forced or lured us into a state of relative autopilot.

That state of life where we ‘exist’ more than ‘live’. Where we simply go from; task to task, chore to chore, obligation to obligation. routine to routine.

And please understand that I say this not with a sense of defeatism, but with a sense of awakening and of commitment and determination.

For me personally, a number of factors seem to have contributed to this oppression and therefore simply engaging my ‘autopilot’. My physical health is without doubt one of the largest factors, but also personal relationships and financial concerns seem to be contributory factors. And all of these seem to impact each other – at least in my own experience.

And truly I do understand the engaging of autopilot in an attempt to stop or at very least to slow down that crippling ‘free fall’ that so many of us have experienced.

But I am convinced that this is not the way that we are intended to live.

And I am also convinced that all it inevitably does – if we are not mindful of it and if we do not take measures to disengage it an to come out of it – is cripple and imprison us.

Doing so in such an often subtle and debilitating way, that the longer we are in this state the more damage is being done beyond our awareness and thus the harder it is to get out of it.

Which I think brings me back to that original definition of oppression which I mentioned and to the fact that I personally, as a Christian, would want to add to it.

You see, I am convinced that there is also a spiritual aspect to it all. That the definition should not only be, “A sense of being weighed down in body or mind.” but more completely be “”A sense of being weighed down in body or mind or spirit.”

For me personally, my faith is central to who I am and crucial to me. And even in this I seem to have been gone into ‘autopilot’ as the factors I mentioned above and also everyday pressures of life seem to have taken their toll.

But who says we have to ‘free fall’ in such situations? Who says we have to be crippled and imprisoned?

The past? The lies we have bought into and which were introduced way back when and which were then reinforced by our damaged and corrupted self-image and by a world which is as self-centred and uncaring as it seems intent to be?

What is to stop us soaring? What is to stop us climbing up on the very block which is designed to oppress us and keep us down and launching ourselves into a new more determined future?

So yes, I recognise ‘the block’ which has kept me down of late, but I refuse to take ownership of it or to simply exist within it. And I am determined to reach out and claim back my life beyond it and to rise above it all.

He sits. Not doing anything in particular and in fact particularly doing nothing.

That weird, inexplicable nothing which seems to consume time, simply regurgitating a world of emptiness in it’s place.

As if all the personal loans of purpose and direction have been consolidated into one more manageable loan of nothingness with periodic repayments of yearning.

And yet still the salesmen and saleswomen call, suggesting that he switches from his current plan to one with ‘greater benefits’ or ‘easier control’.

Some call with sincere care and a heartfelt belief that their plan, their world, offers more. And yet do they really understand, can they understand, that his world is not one which he wants to live in but one he can’t yet escape?

But then that’s the thing isn’t it? The difference in worlds. His world and theirs.

He doesn’t doubt their sincerity, nor even their caring and their love.

But caring and love belong in their world and seem exiled from his. At least right now, at least for the time being.

And caring and love are not – perhaps they need to remember – the visa which affords them right of entry into his world. They are but the application which might yet gain them that re-entry into his world or even – could it possibly be? – his re-entry into theirs.

And what of the journey? His journey? Perhaps, just perhaps, there is a reason for his being where he is right now.

Perhaps, right now, he can’t face, can’t handle their world? Except perhaps for occasional forays. Short visits, investigative trips. Errands and peregrinations of duty and obligation.

But what if this world, right now, is where he is meant to be? Perhaps there is some hidden reason, some hidden purpose for his captivity here? Perhaps some lesson to learn, some destination he is meant to find before he can truly leave. Before he can truly settle on an exit plan?

And what if that is the case? Who’s need is greater? Their need to rescue him from that world? Or his to journey through it and to determine his own port of exit from it?

See that’s the thing about caring – within the nobility of love don’t we also have to recognise our own need to give it? To show that love? Truly noble, truly selfless acts are so rare are they not?

True selflessness does not come from the need to reach out. Nor does it come from the need to isolate. For, either way, it does not come from the need to protect or be protected. Any more than the need to do good works comes from the need to show God we love Him. It flows from the very centre of who we are and is a natural [even supernatural] (needless, and thoughtless) response to who we are in Him.

So he sits. Not doing anything in particular and in fact particularly doing nothing.

That weird, inexplicable nothing which seems to consume time, simply regurgitating a world of emptiness in it’s place.

Yes, right now he is lost. Lost within that world. And yet what is his real need right now? Salesmen and women to call suggesting that he switches from his current plan to one with ‘greater benefits’ or ‘easier control’? Or someone who will simply sit with him and love him in the silence, someone who will show him it is ok to hurt, ok to struggle, ok to look up and believe.

Yes. Ok to look up and to dare to see the Father’s tears. And even dare to believe, yes perhaps even to believe that some, just some, of those tears could actually be for him.

And within that realisation to release the healings which have to, just have to, be held within them.

And who knows, perhaps to even give himself permission to free his own tears?

“If you could do anything with your life, what would you do?” Was his opening question.

“End it.” Was my instant, simple but very sincere and heartfelt response.

On reflection – since we were sat in church and he had just earlier delivered a very inspiring personal testimony of how Christ can move in your life, if you allow Him to – I doubt very much that this was the response he was expecting to receive.

And to be totally honest I am absolutely convinced that it was not the response I expected myself to give. But give it I had. And the fact that I did – since I am being so open and honest – scares me somewhat.

The fact that I suffer from suicidal ideation is no secret to those who know me well. But the fact that this had progressed – hm. should that more accurately be ‘regressed’? – to a level where I had virtually accepted that this outcome was inevitable, if not imminent, is known to very few people indeed, perhaps only one or two people. And I am not sure even they truly know or understood the significance of it all.

It was Sunday morning and I had gone to church. The fact is that I have been fighting with myself about pulling away from church (and church activities) for some time now. Sometimes attending and sometimes not attending, depending on which pert of my thinking was winning at that particular moment.

John Edwards (The ‘he’ in the opening snippet of conversation above) had been in town that weekend and was the guest speaker at our church that morning. He had shared his testimony and then had prayed with folk afterwards. And despite my being in the process of pulling away, I had agreed to go along that particular morning because I have some responsibilities in respect of editing and publishing the sermons each week and because – again if I am honest – I have recently been trying to make sure that, as and when I do pull away from the church, what little I do do can easily be taken over by someone else.

The praise and worship that morning (this past Sunday) was wonderful and there were actual moments within it when I was able to lose myself in worship and where what goes on inside my head lost all significance or even presence.

Likewise, John’s testimony (which – if you are interested you can listen to here) was certainly inspiring and I listened to it intently. Afterwards many people went up for personal prayer although I personally, despite numerous encouragements from folk, avoided doing so. What was the point when in your own mind it was just all part of putting off the inevitable?

My buddy (also called John) – who had driven me to church that morning and who was driving me home again afterwards – had also suggested that we both go up for prayer. But I convinced him that he should and that I was quite happy waiting until he had done so. Actually, as it happens, he was the last to go up and so after they had finished praying John Edwards came over and said hello to me and that is when the conversation – the opening snippet of which I stated this post with – took place.

The truth is that John Edwards is a lovely guy and very caring. And the fact is that he made a lot of sense in what he and I talked about in our very brief conversation. But I was not in the right mindset to offer any positive responses to what he was saying and so the conversation didn’t last very long at all. And for that I am truly sorry. I am sure he needed my negativity that late morning/early afternoon about as much as he needed to hear my fatalistic response to his opening question to me. And that is what both scares me and has got me to thinking really.

Have I become so defeated, so jaded, that I have simply accepted my perceived fate and in turn simply refuse to accept that there is any hope?

See there within lies the problem which I think a lot of us face.

Maybe not to the same extent or in the same context as this. But certainly one which I think a lot of folk will be able to relate to.

When you are arguing with yourself – with your own thoughts.

For a Christian, doing God’s will is (or at least should be) paramount in your life – even and especially in the face of your own personal struggles. And we are called to go through those personal struggles and to ‘press on towards the goal’. But sometimes, those personal struggles can become so all consuming -0 especially when you can’t seem to control the thoughts in your head.

Sometimes, it seems that ‘taking captive every thought’ is the battle – or at least the only part of the battle you can bring yourself to deal with. As I told Kelvin – a really nice guy who was accompanying John Edwards on his visit – when he and I were chatting whilst others were going up for prayer and when he told me that ‘taking captive every thought’ is part of the battle.

And that really con be so very true. It is, I added, like playing chess with yourself. You can be pretty sure that you will both win and lose in that situation. And I am so incredibly tired and arguing with my own thoughts that winning doesn’t even seem worth it any more. And that is what is so scary.

The truth is that I love God and Christ and I love my church and my family. And I also openly and fully recognise that so many folk suffer far more than I do. But when your thoughts consume you and when you can’t seem to even control them – let alone ‘take them captive’ – you do lose all sight of any hope. At least any hope for the here and now.

And along with that comes so many thoughts and thought processes. So much so that you can (I am convinced) fail to even recognise those thoughts and those thought processes which are harmful and even fatally flawed.

That conversation (the opening lines of which I shared above) happened this Sunday. And the fact that I so quickly, so instantly, responded the way I did. And to someone who was effectively a complete stranger, worries me. Especially given the setting it took place in. And I have not been able to get it out of my head since,

I have, as I said before, over the past few weeks been trying to pull away from everything and almost every one. Participating in things only out of a sense of duty, or in order to facilitate putting my affairs in order, or in order to not cause concern to folk or to raise any alarm bells.

I think closing my sites/blogs, and trying to put my affairs in order have all been a part of that self-same fatalistic mindset. But where do you go? What do you do? When you can no longer trust even your own thoughts? When you have tried get help and can’t seem to even adequately explain how desperate you feel or the confusion in your own mind? And when you are frightened of contributing to anything or even trying to explain where you are at, for fear of hurting or negatively impacting others badly?

I find myself so very conflicted. On the one hand I am actively doing things which all work towards a better future for myself health wise. And yet on the other hand I am doing things which – whilst designed to protect others and to reduce the potential harm and impact to others – are probably not healthy for me mentally.

The Christian message, the gospel of peace is, I am convinced – and yes I am still convinced even in all this – one of hope. A hope, in Christ, that we can hold onto in the face of the fiercest and darkest of storms. But that does not mean (and trust me here) that those storms will not come or are not possible. Because they are.

Since closing this blog (and others) I have found no peace over doing so. And I have to recognise that perhaps doing so was part of that fatalistic mindset I seem to have spiralled into. And it is interesting to me that – since closing this blog – the past two guest posts over at the Mental Health Writer’s Guild – which I am involved in – have been about or included suicide or suicidal thoughts within their subject matter.

Am I any the less lost, confused or conflicted today than I was when I decided to close this blog? Does my having decided to reopen this blog and to share this post mean that there is some progress being made here? The truth is that I have no idea. Perhaps it is all part of the self-same conflicted sense of being lost and confused?

But I do know that I have not been at peace about having closed it and I do know that that conversation I had on Sunday – or more accurately the fact that I even had it, where I had it and with whom I had it – does concern me.

I think many of us who suffer from mental illness or poor mental health can well relate to how this animation of a what is termed as a ‘flatline’ – normally used to indicate activity in the heart – could also represent how we feel, often both mentally and emotionally, during a particularly bad episode.

It can be such a distressing time – especially (and often more so) for those who have to witness our going through these episodes. Episodes where we seemingly cease to function, cease to even feel.

And certainly it is very hard to explain or describe – to anyone who has not experienced it or been through it – just what that is like.

And likewise it is very hard to explain or describe the wonderment which can often come when you suddenly, unexpectedly, somewhere from within the silent emptiness of both thought and emotion, realise that you have begun to feel something.

Did you really feel it? Was it really there? Did you imagine it? Somehow create it out of your own desperation?

These are all questions which I have to admit I have asked myself at times such as these.

And of course even the realisation of your being desperate – were you but to have had clarity of thought enough to know it at the time – is in itself an indication of improvement. An indication of some breakthrough. Some sign of life within the death-like emptiness you had previously been experiencing.

But then of course comes the nervousness, even the fear, that actually this new awareness, this new feeling, this new ability to think once more is only fleeting. A momentary blip before you mentally and/or emotionally ‘flatline’ once more.

It’s a harrowing thought isn’t it?

And indeed perhaps you are reading this and can relate to exactly what I am describing here. Either because you have experienced it yourself or watched someone you know, perhaps a loved one, go through this kind of thing.

And if either of those are the case for you, then I am truly sorry. And likewise I am truly sorry for those who have witnessed me go through it in the past.

But of course – when it comes to the heart and to ‘flatlining’ in the physical – we have learned so much and have developed such equipment as defibrillators to help kick start the heart back into action.

Something which we are not quite so developed, not so good at when it comes to the mind and the emotions.

Although I have little to no doubt that many have tried ‘shocking’ even ‘shaking’ their loved one’s out of such a status. Even despite the obvious and very real fear that doing so might to more harm than good.

And I yearn – oh how I yearn – to be able to offer some sage advice, some wonderful key that would instantly unlock such situations as the ones I have described above. But alas I know not of such a key, because I recognise that we are all unique and the very things that drive or drag us into such states can be as unique and personal to each of us as the personal pain and distress that it causes those who have to witness them.

But I do know this. That pain and distress comes from your love. And I truly believe that love can reach into the deepest and darkest of circumstances and offer hope. A hope which can save lives and which can change the tides of desperation.

After all, as a Christian, is that not what I believe that God’s love through Christ has done for me, and for so many others.

And after all, is that not one of the reasons why we – those of us who experience mental illness or poor mental health – blog about our experiences? In the hope of reaching out and helping someone else?

So I want to encourage you, if you are going through this or witnessing someone else going though this, to persevere and to continue loving them through it. Who knows, perhaps one day that very love which you selflessly give will be the very thing which reaches into the deep darkness of desperation and touches the person going through it, so that somewhere from within the silent emptiness of both thought and emotion they can see and find their way out.

According to Marjorie Taylor and her colleagues at the University of Oregon, by age seven, about 37% of children take imaginative play a step farther and create an invisible friend.

And my initial answer to that question (which obviously places me in the 63% majority) was very true and very accurate. And was that…

I really don’t think that I did. At least I can’t remember actually having any. I had two brothers and a sister and maybe felt that was enough.

But it is perhaps interesting to consider why I didn’t.

In the same article Psychology Today also states that…

It seems logical that children who invent invisible friends might be lonely or have social problems, but research doesn’t support those assumptions.

But it then also goes on to say that…

Oldest children, only children, and children who don’t watch much television are more likely to create an imaginary friend. This probably reflects opportunity. Children need unstructured time alone to be able to invent imaginary friends.

And certainly I was neither an oldest child, an only child or one who was limited in the amount of television that I watched. But there were also, I think, other factors in play here. Those factors being the thoughts and voices in my head and my relationship with my siblings.

The thoughts and voices in my head seemed to me to separate me and even in some ways isolate me from my siblings.

Although I do readily accept that this separation and isolation took more of the form of a perceived separation than anything else.

The fact is that in my own mind and in my own perception I was ‘different’, ‘not normal’, ‘weird’.

Basically I think that I really did feel as if I didn’t belong. And actually this is something that has remained with me all of my life.

Ad when I look at images, like the one to the left and notice how happy the boy with the imaginary friend seems to be, and hear stories and accounts of other children with imaginary friends, I do wonder why I didn’t have an imaginary friend.

I also wonder why the boy in the photo seems to have blue skin? Is he changing into a smurf? (But hey, that is just the way my mind works)

You see whilst some may think that loneliness might cause a child to invent an imaginary friend, I do understand the point made about above about “oldest children, only child, and children with limited television viewing being more likely to create an imaginary friend as a result of having more opportunity.” I also understand their point about, “children needing unstructured time alone to be able to invent imaginary friends.”

And whilst I would accept that having two brothers and a sister did mean that I had less time alone than say an only child, in truth I believe that I did have lots of “unstructured time alone” and certainly enough to invent an imaginary friend. Had I had the mind to. And likewise I certainly had the imagination and creativity necessary for this.

But here’s the deal. If you are a small child who is convinced that you are; ‘different’, ‘not normal’, and/or ‘weird’, and that you don’t belong. Why would you want to create an imaginary friend who is more than likely to have the same attitude towards you that others seem – at least in your mind – to have towards you. And why would you want to create an imaginary friend who would “not belong” along with you?

Additionally, having the voices and thoughts inside my head as a child meant that I often had enough difficulty determining actual shared reality with my own perceived reality.

So having additional imaginary friends would, I think, have seemed just a step too far.

And there is, at least I think, an interesting study here somewhere. Children having imaginary friends, according to the aforementioned article in Psychology Today, is “not evidence that a child is troubled.” And that in fact…

Surprisingly, invisible friends don’t necessarily disappear when childhood ends. One study that examined the diaries of adolescents plus questionnaire data concluded that socially competent and creative adolescents were most likely to create an imaginary friend and that this type of friend was not a substitute for relationships with real people.

So my questions would have to be, “Why then do these imaginary friends end in adulthood?” and, “why – since all the evidence suggests that actually, having imaginary friends in not harmful or a negative thing in and of itself – do we treat the idea with suspicion and caution when it comes to adults?”

As I mentioned before, I personally don’t have imaginary friends. I have had experiences in life where I have known someone and ‘imagined’ them to be my friend only to be proven wrong LOL. But hey, haven’t we all?

And as a writer, I have also known characters within my books and/or stories who seemed to have taken on; a life, a personality, a presence, of their own.

But then that is a different thing entirely.

I have also known people who – as some form of comfort or inspiration – out of their loss, continue to talk to their mother or father, gran or grandad, brother or sister, who has died. And I even know folk who do this with absolute conviction that this person really is there and really is looking over them and talking to them.

And I have to be honest here, I also know other Christians who have such a passion and such an intimate relationship with Christ or God that they communicate and envision Him in the same way.

(How’s that for opening up a whole hornets nest of comments from non-believers about God actually being an imaginary friend?)

But the thing is that I am just not that way inclined. And even though I am a Christian and absolutely do believe in the historical and biblical evidence of Christ and in the presence and sovereignty of God, and even though I have personally witnessed and do believe in the indwelling of the Holy Spirit within the believer. I have never had an approach or experience similar to the ones I have spoken about above.

And furthermore I am not prepared to judge those who do.

In truth I believe that we still have a very limited understanding of faith and still have a very limited understanding of the abilities and complexities of the mind. And I am still very much convinced that some of what is considered to be a sign of ‘mental illness’ is not a sign of mental illness at all, but rather a reflection and indication of our lack of understanding.

I wonder what you thought when you first read the title of this post? Perhaps you thought this post would be all about bed bugs and mites and things? Or perhaps your mind took you in a different direction? Well actually it is about books and reading. And about the worlds which are often only found beneath the covers of a book. (Or in this technologically advanced age – under the shiny screen of a kindle or e-book reader or iPad or whatever.) And yes, as a child, they were also worlds I found as I secretly read under the covers of my bed.

Actually, this post is the third in the additional challenge I set within the ‘Little and Not So Little Things From Childhood’ game that I set in a previous post and this morning I am focussing on my answer to question 9. ‘Favourite book as a child?’

The answer I gave was as follows…

The first and probably my most favourite as a child was a huge old family King James bible. It had wooden covers and golden edges to it’s pages and beautiful full page colour pictures within it. I loved it! And I read it endlessly.

The second is the Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien. I would have been about 10 years old when I first discovered it and devoured both it and the whole set of books in the series. I never imagined it would ever become a set of movies or that it would become such a popular story. But I simply lost myself within the pages of those books. And again I now own the set.

I absolutely loved reading! And from that love came my love of writing and has no doubt contributed to my love of blogging.

And I have to tell you that whilst as a writer and someone who therefore benefits from the additional royalties earned through the ease and accessibility of my books also being available to download as e-books on Amazon kindles and the such, I do mourn what seems to be the long and somewhat painful death of actual printed books.

I truly believe that there is; an intimacy, a feel, a smell, a physical connection that is gained by reading an actual printed book which is somehow lost within the microchips and motherboards of electronic devices.

Opening the cover of a book was like opening the lid of a treasure chest, opening a portal to another world. And importantly – for me at least – it was a way of losing myself from the world I felt trapped in and which didn’t understand me, into a world which offered escape and adventure and which I never needed to understand me.

Many worlds actually. Worlds which broadened not only my horizons but also my understandings. Understandings of; life, of people, of relationships, of love, and of me.

And more importantly, in respect of that huge old wooden covered family bible, understandings of a God. A God who wasn’t the grey and angry and invisible and detached old figure that was portrayed in the mono-toned sermons of the church I was sent to each Sunday.

But one who was instead; loving, caring, hopeful, compassionate and who sought not to see us, to see me, fail but one who yearned for, longed for, reached out for, us, for me, to succeed and to come home to Him.

Yes, beneath the covers of books I found new worlds. Not only in the fantasies conjured up in the imaginations of such writers as: Enid Blyton. J. R. R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, A. A. Milne, Mark Twain, Beatrix Potter, Charles Dickens, William Shakespeare, Richmal Crompton, Geoffrey Chaucer and the such – but also worlds which are held in the single tear drop of a loving heavenly Father.

I am, as you can probably tell, so very grateful to books and to all the people who take time to write them.

And it is my fervent prayer and hope that books – printed actual ink on paper books – never become a thing of the past.

I embrace technology – anyone who knows me will know that and that I have a love of gadgets. But I so desire for children everywhere to catch hold of the tactile joy of books and the wonderment of the stories and adventures that they contain.

And it is my fervent hope that all parents will encourage their children to read as much as they can. And to any parent out there I would like to say this…

if you go into your child’s bedroom at night and find them hiding under their covers, torch in hand, reading a story. Please don’t shout at them, chastise or discipline them. Why not climb under the covers with them, take them in your arms and search out new worlds together with them?

Who knows perhaps you won’t only find a doorway in to the worlds that they are exploring but also a doorway further into their heart. And who knows perhaps by finding that extra special place in their heart they will start sharing with you the world within their mind and bringing to you even more of their own story.

The ‘road to recovery’ is, I think, a very strange road. And it is also, in my experience, a road leading from a very strange places (or places). But I do, of course, also accept that it is also a road which is very personal and can be so very different for each and every person who needs to walk it.

For some it is a road trodden perhaps only once or even only a few times. Perhaps that need arises as a result of a single event or circumstance, and one which will never be repeated in their life. Hence there is no real need for them to return to it – to walk, (crawl, stumble, fall, repeatedly pick themselves up) again. For example, if a person breaks their leg, their ‘road to recovery’ (in this example) may be defined as working towards a point where their bones have mended and they can walk properly again.

But for others (especially in terms of mental health), that ‘road to recovery’ can be one which we regularly have to enter. For some, the ‘road to recovery’, is not one which stems from one single event or circumstance – one single place – but from a myriad of different events or places. And let’s be honest here, sometimes – for some of us – it isn’t a road leading to a place which is ideal but simply to a place which is more tolerable or more acceptable.

And that is one of the things about ‘recovery’ isn’t it? Very often it isn’t concrete or absolute. The truth is that each of us understands and defines ‘recovery’ differently, personally. And perhaps that is because each of us understands and defines our mental health differently and personally. And indeed for some it may seem as if they have spent most of their life camped out on that ‘road to recovery’.

And that can get so very tiring and demoralizing can’t it? Not only for those of us who repeatedly have to return to it, but also for those who love us and who have to witness us doing so.

And yet a lot of it is about perspective isn’t it? Yes, having to repeatedly return to the ‘road to recovery’ can be very demoralizing but the very fact that we have returned to it means that we have – at least – left the place we were in. That we have – at least – come through our latest episode.

For me personally that is where I am as I sit and write this post this morning. And in that one recognition there is hope to be found. Hope which, I have to be honest, I didn’t have when I was in that dark place before. Hope that I didn’t think I would ever have again whilst I was in that place before.

And that is what seems, I think, so very important. You see in the darkness, in the confusion, in the hopelessness which often accompanies and signifies the episodes that I experience as a result of my mental health I seem to have little to no control and thus little to no choice when it comes to seeing and grasping hold of any hope. My mind – or at least the mental illness – increasingly takes over, pulling a deep. dark, heavy blanket of confused nothingness over me. And – depending on how quickly (or often how sneakily) it does so – I, and the battle, seem lost.

But this side of it all, I get to make the decisions. I get to have a say. I get to make the choices. And I refuse, whilst I have the strength and the mental where-with-all, to surrender that hope which is so very important to us all.

So yes I am on that road to recovery again and yes I still walk it with hope. Yes, I may need to walk some of it on my knees, and yes I may stumble and fall along the way. But I know which way I am heading and I know that I do not walk it alone.

I am so very blessed and so very grateful for those who have helped me back onto this road. And I am so very blessed by and grateful for those who are willing to walk, if only in part, this road with me or to encourage me along it.

How long I need to be on it, indeed where it will take me – this side of eternity – I just don’t know. But I am so thankful to be on it once more and I am so thankful for my faith and that hope.

Somewhere in the wee small hours of the night (more like very early morning really). Within the troubled yoyoing of being asleep and being awake which played with me all night last night, a questioned formed within my mind and then simply sat there defiantly until I paid it some attention.

My thoughts often do that – not leaving me until I have at least acknowledged them and walked a little, down what ever path they seek to take me.

And this one came in the form of a question which simply would not, has not gone. That question (as the title of this post would suggest) was, “What if you were to dress your thoughts?”

I seem to remember that when I was a child my older sister had paper dress up games. She would have a figure – which would be a push-out or cut out piece of cardboard and some pictures of different clothing – complete with fold over tabs – and she could use each clothing to make different outfits for the cardboard figure.

And when I first decided to actually give some sort of attention to the defiant question in my mind that is what I first thought of.

Of course I then lay there – awaiting the next sporadic visit of sleep – wondering just what I would ever want to dress my thoughts for? (Did I mention that my thoughts often desire for me to acknowledge them and walk a little, down what ever path they seek to take me?)

“Not all your thoughts.” I determined, somewhere along the line. “Just the repetitive, recurring, harmful thoughts.” And certainly that made a little more sense to me. Because perhaps in the process of doing so it would reveal something to me?

We all have those internal dialogues don ‘t we? Those recurring thoughts that somehow wont go away? And is it not true that for some of us – with poor mental health – these harmful repetitive recurring thoughts play into and impact our mental health?

So what if we were to dress them? What if we were to take each of them, in turn, and to find; an outfit, a clothing, an identity, which suited them?

For me personally, so many of my internal dialogues are – due to my mental illnesses – mixed up with the seemingly external dialogues that I hear. But there are some which are evidently internal in origin and which are recurring and repetitive and which evidently do cause harm to my mental health. Indeed, I have to ask myself – since my mind was so insistent that I considered this whole thing – if clothing them would bring them some clarity?

So what if I were to ‘dress’ them? What if I were to find an outfit which suited them? Could finding an outfit which seemed right for them (Individually I mean) actually help me to identify where they originated? And indeed, if I knew where they originated from, would I be better equipped to address them? To dismiss them if they were unjust or unfair or to learn from them if they were justified?

I have to be honest with you. The way my mind is at the moment I am not sure I am even thinking rationally but it is something that does interest me.

As a Christian I am particularly mindful of the scripture in 2 Corinthians 10:5 which basically tells us to “Take captive every thought” and yes I am paraphrasing there.

But it is a real encouragement given to all Christians and one which does link directly into what I have been considering.

Perhaps in dressing the thought I am giving the thought the identity of it’s origin and thus can see it more clearly and can therefore take it ‘captive’.

Certainly the very idea of taking all the thoughts, internal and external dialogues, etc captive and stopping their free run of havoc within my mind seems so very appealing right now.

And who knows perhaps I, and my mind would even be able to get some sleep!

[Not including the trigger warning triangle (left) I have just used to notify you the reader that this post may contain difficult subject matter for some]

All three images are quotation based and on the same subject. That subject being ‘Isolation’.

Why three images? And why isolation?

Well I have chosen three images as they give differing perspectives on ‘isolation’ and I have chosen isolation as I know that I am isolating at the moment.

But also, and mainly, in the hope that others who are experiencing these things will know that they are not alone and that there is hope.

This first quote is by the French novelist, poet and playwright Jules Verne and you can certainly see how he feels isolation not to be a good thing at all.

The source of this next quote is unknown…

And whilst agreeing that isolation is not a good thing, the author (whomever that may be) has quite cleverly directly linked the subject to illness and wellness. And certainly you can see where he or she is coming from and what message he or she is trying to convey.

The third of my initial three images – the third quote – that I want to share with you also has no specific source linked to it. Likewise, it also seeks (in my opinion) to see isolation as a negative. But also not only to recognise the effect of isolation, to also offer some hope from it.

But what if the isolation is not inflicted upon you but is instead chosen by you? Chosen – if you will – because it seemingly provides some safety some security.?

And what if, even in ‘social’ isolation there is – because of the ever present voices and the internal dialogues – no real isolation, no real safety, no real security? Only – or so the mind tells you – less danger?

And indeed, how do you get others to understand that?

I found this image – which is designed for use in the anti-bullying campaign – and it really does convey something essential. Something that we all need to be mindful of.

As a parent, I have always been mindful of the effects of bullying. The effects of other people’s harmful and critical words on my children.

My son, was bullied at school by one of his teachers and it impacted him so very deeply that it completely changed his personality and outlook on life, for quite some time.

And I cannot begin to express just how much this saddened me and even angered me. And I am not someone who angers that easily. Thankfully we manage to put an end to it and my son was able to slowly but surely recover from it.

Bullies seek to inflict their poison, their hatred, their anger, even their own hurts and pain – on their victims. To invade and impact their victim’s life in a negative and harmful way. So much so that you seek to do all you can to avoid them.

But what if the bully (or the bullies) are not external but internal? What if they are not outside your head but inside your head? What then? What if they are the voices (which admittedly do appear external) and the internal dialogues that you just can’t silence? Because, trust me, for some of us that is exactly how it is.

And yes – since this post is about isolation – I can completely understand the logical and natural question, “Then if it is inside your head how will isolating from others help?”

Well it is because mental illness can do that. In my case, the voices – the internal and seemingly external dialogues – twist and turn, manipulate and corrupt, so much of what happens or what is said.

If words can be a weapon, my mental illness is the one holding that weapon, and thus ‘words’ (as well as actions) are ammunition to my mental illness. So by isolating I remove so much of the fresh ammunition available and all my mental illness has available to use as a weapon is conjecture and suggestion and memory. Albeit that all of those are also twisted and manipulated in their use.

And, in the interest of honesty, I should also admit that just as my son’s personality changed when he was bullied, I am also very much aware that my personality, my behaviours, change as my mental health declines. And I don’t like the results of this or the potential for harm that it can bring with it.

And that therefore, leads to the tendency, the compulsion to isolate. And it is a compulsion that I dislike and know is also unhealthy and yet find so hard to fight. For the truth – and without truth there is no true healing – is that in isolation there is little healing only darkness and amidst social interactions, whilst yes there is ammunition for the bullying voices and dialogues, there is also ammunition to be found to fire back at the voices. Evidences of acceptance, of purpose, of worth, of hope. Evidences that lay amongst the spent shell casings of snipes and jeers, ridicules and threats my mind has already fired at me.

And yet finding them within the battlefield of my mind, picking them up within the mental Mêlée of madness that sometimes takes over can be so very difficult. So you seek to reduce the onslaught, to lower the level of attacks or potential attacks, to cut-off the enemy’s (your mind’s) ammunition source. To find, a quieter, more stable battlefield. But the alternative always offers darkness, a world of internal sniper-shots.

And also, potentially (and yes I recognise this) a world of self-destruction.

Will I self-destruct? No I really don’t think so. Thankfully I still have some strength and thankfully a very strong faith. And thankfully I am aware that Isolation can be as much a prison – death row – to some as it can be preservation to others.

And so I fight on. prayerfully, carefully, I fight on. This is nothing new and nothing that will defeat me. There is hope. I know that there is hope. And thankfully there are folk in my life who are watching out for me. As long as I let them. Something which I have never been very good at doing.

No matter how hard the fight. No matter how great the battle. No matter how strong the apparent need or compulsion to isolate, I need to try not to. To at least keep some communication – real face to face – communication and interaction going. And I urge others, who are in a similar situation, to do the same thing.

If you are feeling like me at this time, or ever, if nothing else, please please feel free comment or to contact me. You really are not alone, no matter how alone you feel or alone you feel you need to be.

Do you like the title of this post? I hope you do or that, if nothing else, it has pricked your interest enough for you to read on. But I want to make it very clear from the ‘get go’ that it is not one of my lines or a statement of my own construction. (Although it could very well be.)

It is instead a line from a ‘button poem’ written by Sabrina Benaim and you can ( and I truly hope you will) view her reciting this poem in the YouTube video below.

I sat at my desk this morning just flicking through my Facebook page and came across a video about a homeless man who was given money to buy himself stuff but who then, instead of simply keeping it, used that money to buy food for others. (You have probably already see it as I believe it went viral and got a lot of media attention.)

Anyway, once that video had finished, I noticed another one which caught my eye – the Sabrina Benaim one entitled ‘Explaining My Depression To My Mother’ and I decided to click on and watch that.

I love all things ‘arty’ and write poetry myself and since the subject matter was mental health/mental illness it was of course of great interest to me. And I am so glad that I did watch it and I am delighted to be able to share it with you now.

Depression – the subject of the poem (and that which Sabrina was trying to explain to her mother) – hits those of us who experience it or duffer from it in different ways. And trust me, although I am a Christian with a very strong faith, I know only too well just what havoc it (and indeed other forms of mental illness) can reek in a person’s life.

I also know, first-hand, just how confusing it’s presence (in a believer’s life) can be to other Christians. And indeed the conversation which Sabrina has formed into her poem is not unique. And it is perhaps because of my faith that that one line – which I have used as the title of this blog – leapt out at me and resonated with me so clearly.

Of course, my mind – which all too often behaves like a four year old being set free and unsupervised in a candy store (sweet shop), running all over the place grabbing and unwrapping and devouring things – has already started to take me down a whole plethora of different thought processes and deliberations as a result of the poem and indeed as a result of that one line.

But that (exploring those thought processes and trying to bring my mind back into line) is something I will attend to once I have finished this post. But to give you some idea of said thought processes here are just a few of them:

“Can one baptise one’s self?” “Does such an ‘ocean of happiness’ even exist?” “Is faith meant to give us happiness?” “Is ‘happiness’ even the right word or is it ‘joy’ that we need?” “And indeed what are the differences?” “And hey, even with that ‘joy’ do we experience, are we meant to experience, oceans of happiness?” “Does anyone truly experience oceans of happiness?”

Of course all of those (and trust me there are many more) are linked to my faith and not the purpose or focus of Sabrina’s poem. But isn’t that how our minds work? Often taking things – the actions and statements of others and making them, shaping them, filtering and receiving them, in a way which is personal to us?

So I close this post (and wander off to my mental journey of deliberations and reflections) with the video of Sabrina reciting her poem (And I commend and thank Sabrina for her bravery in making and publishing it, or allowing it to be published) and I invite you to comment on what it said, how it spoke, to you…

I wonder what Christmas means or (given that it is now December 29th) what it was like for you?

For me personally Christmas is usually a time of conflict and duality.

Conflict and duality which comes from a) my heart-felt desire, as a Christian, to celebrate the Saviour’s birth (and yes I know it didn’t really happen at this time of year or on December 25th – but this is the time of year and the day when a lot of mankind chooses to celebrate it and I am ok with that) against b) the other side of me which is that I really am very uncomfortable around people. And Christmas is one of the times of year when there is a great expectation that we will spend time with others.

Normally I choose to, and can usually get away, with spending Christmas on my own and pretty much not (apart from church services and buying immediate family members presents etc) even really acknowledging it’s existence. (How’s that for earning extra Grinch or Scrooge points?)

And yes I am fully aware that some folk will be horrified at the idea that someone would actually want to spend Christmas alone pretty much ignoring it’s presence. But to you folk – who I am sure are good folk with legitimate concerns – all I can say is try to look beyond your own experiences and all the tinsel and baubles and try to imagine what it is like for those of us who suffer from mental illness and for whom social gatherings really are uncomfortable, even threatening. And try, if you will, to imagine just how much additional stress or pressure such a festive holiday full of expectations can place on us.

And the truth is that I am by no means against Christmas, nor indeed am I a Grinch or a Scrooge – although I admit I do do a very good impersonation of both.

Actually I love Christmas. I just recognise the fact that I just don’t do well with the additional pressure that often comes with it.

And this in itself poses us (those of us with mental illness and who do not do well in social situations) with a problem. Do we simply refuse to get involved and seek the familiar sanctuary of isolation? Or do we venture out of our comfort zone – our personal safety bubbles – and get involved as others seem so intent on having us do?

This year (unlike previous years) I relented and accepted the very kind invitation of Sinead – a friend from church and my carer – and went and stayed with her family for a few days over the Christmas period. And in fact I even agreed to accept her and her husband’s invitation to stay an extra night.

And in the interest of honesty and objectivity I have to admit that I really did have a lovely time and that none of it was ‘too much’ for me to handle. And I make that statement not only in testament to Sinead and Tony and their family and how loving and caring they are, but also as an encouragement to others (who may have similar difficulties as me) and to say that sometimes it can work and can very much be worth while.

That is not to say that there weren’t associated difficulties. All of which I accept came from within me and none of which being as a result of anything anyone else did or didn’t do, said or didn’t say.

I find that I am mentally exhausted at the moment. Quietly dealing with the voices and the internal dialogues whilst trying not to negatively impact anyone else’s Christmas can (I assure you) be very draining. During the day – with the activities and conversations and even the distraction available in the company of others – I found that I was very much able to cope. But at night time, when alone in my room – the mind had a field day and did what it could to sabotage it all.

And additionally, when I returned home, the very first thing I wanted to do was to keep everyone else out. And additionally I have an extreme need (or perhaps it is just an extreme desire) to completely isolate for a while. Something which I was aware of even before I came home, and so decided not to even attend church yesterday.

And yes I recognise that isolating it not a good thing and again I want to emphasise that none of this is as a result of anything anyone else did or said and that I do truly believe that it was worth it.

But that can be the nature of mental illness can’t it?

Even when we feel we have achieved some victory, some progress over it, it can come back at us with vengeance. Even trying to rob us of what achievements or victories we may have just had.

As I said, I am extremely grateful for the Christmas I was able to share this year and I really did enjoy it and have a lovely time. And I am convinced that it was totally worth it. And I would encourage others to think very hard about actually trying to reach out beyond the comfort zone.

But we need to do so being very mindful that there is no doubt a cost involved in this and that we (both those of us with mental illness and those who are caring for us, or encouraging us to go beyond our comfort zones) have to be very careful.

Comfort zones are not always a good thing. And I will even go as far as to recognise and acknowledge that sometimes they are a very unhealthy thing.

BUT, I do so in the strict understanding that I also know – from very real first-hand experience – that sometimes, just sometimes, our comfort zones are an absolute must if we are to survive.

I am extremely grateful for the opportunity and the encouragement to have stepped outside of mine this Christmas. But with the New Year festivities fast approaching, and the way I am at the moment, I am also very grateful that my comfort zone is still available to me 🙂

Whilst I think that this is a very interesting question I do also recognize that it is one which also comes (when answering) with some necessary caution.

The reason for this being, that in answering or detailing where your support does actually come from you are (by virtue of their absence from said answer) also indicating where you do not get your support from.

Now when starting this blog I made a very conscious, deliberate and (in my opinion) important decision. Which was that I would do my best, throughout all of the posts of this blog, not to consciously bring discomfort or distress to anyone through what I share nor to allow bitterness or revenge to enter into any of my posts.

This policy of trying to avoid causing people distress and of actively trying to avoid bitterness or the need for revenge is one which I also try to maintain throughout my life.

Therefore, I have decided to keep my answers ‘general’ by nature instead of mentioning any specific persons by name. There are of course a few people in my life who have been spectacular in the support that they have given me and/or do give me and whilst you are most certainly noteworthy, I am sure that you already know just how appreciated you are and will appreciate my reasons for not mentioning you by name.

So, the above having been said, here are the ‘general’ sources of the (extremely appreciated) support which I do receive…

My Carer….

In terms of support, I would have to say that most of it – in day to day terms – comes from my Carer. Regular readers will be aware that additional to my poor mental health I suffer from a very poor physical health also.

This, along with my mental health, has led to the need for me to have a carer and my carer – you know who you are 🙂 – is such a blessing to me and I would hate to think just what I would be like without her support.

Members of my family…

I am very much aware that for some, reactions to the presence of their poor mental health or their mental illnesses has caused great difficulties within their families and that tragically in some situations it has caused them to be shunned or to feel that they are better off living their lives without their family.

In my own situation the fact is that I have little to no doubt that as a child and youth and young adult my mental illnesses seriously impacted my relationships with my family. But that was then and this is now. Now I am 52 years old and in fact live alone. I also live in a different country to the one in which I grew up and in which all of my birth family still live. Because of this, the chances or opportunities for my birth family to support me are fairly limited or indeed are non-existent.

And when it comes to my immediate family, here again only one of my children lives here in Ireland and anywhere close to me. That having been said, despite their all having their own families to look after, I have to say that I do get a great deal of support from them when they are aware that I need it.

Members of my church….

I attend an extremely loving and caring church and there are certain members within the church (and it’s leadership team) who have been and are such a blessing and such a support to me.

Likewise, I also attend a small bible study group within that church. Here, all of the members of that group are, by virtue of the fact that it is a much smaller and thus more personal and intimate a group, aware of my mental illnesses and more aware of some of the struggles that I face as a result of them. And I have to say that they are all so very supportive.

Other bloggers and writers….

One area of support which cannot or should not go unmentioned is the mental health community here online. By this I mean those fellow bloggers and writers who give of themselves regularly to share what is happening in their own lives and with their own mental health and to – by doing so – say, “you are not alone” or “yes, that happened/happens to me.”

They share information, encouragements, heartaches and inspirations in their writings and often read and comment of each others blogs and provide essential support through all this. They are such a blessing and support to me and, whilst I might not always be very good at saying thank you or remembering to comment back, are all appreciated so very much.

My Neighbors….

Whilst I have to be honest and say that very few (if any) of my neighbors would have any real knowledge of the fact that I have mental illnesses, they all do know that I experience poor physical health.

I think it would, in fact, be fair to say that my physical health issues are (generally speaking) more prominent than my mental health issues. I am so very thankful that all of my neighbors are polite and friendly towards me and that some of them are also so very supportive when I need it.

My faith…

The truth is that I simply could not complete a list of where I get my support without mentioning my faith. I cannot, for the life of me, begin to think just where I would be, or what would have happened to me by now had I not been blessed with such a strong faith.

And I think that also raises another important point about support.

My faith affords me so much strength and so much hope in the most darkest of times. And unlike a great deal of support which comes from outside ourselves, my faith affords me a strength and a support which comes from within.

In truth, I do not know the faiths of a great many of the folk who write blogs on their mental illness or mental health. But I do see such strength in so many of them.

And I think that the support that we gain from inner strength is often so much more powerful than that offered from others outside of ourselves, and often goes so unnoticed.

Day 17: If you could get rid of your mental illness(es) would you? Why or why not?

I have considered this question on numerous occasions. I think many of us haven’t we?

And indeed I am sure that I have written about it before as well. And I realize that at this point I really should place a link to that previous post on this subject. But actually, I have decided – just out of purely personal curiosity – not to read that previous answer before I answer it this time.

I just thin k it would be interesting (well to me at least) to see if my answer now differs from the answer that I gave then in any way. But I promise I will search for that previous answer and post a link to it at the end of this post.

If I could get rid of my mental illnesses, would I?

In truth so very much of me wants to shout YES! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! The reality is that having recently gone through a particularly bad episode with my mental health, I came out of it only to find that a day or so later my mental health started declining again and that I was entering into yet another episode.

I don’t know about you, but that happens with me sometimes. It seems to all be linked to the level of damage done during that bad episode. If I come out of it and very little damage was done during that episode then I can cope and recovery starts. But if I come out of it and a lot of damage was done then I (or rather my mental health) simply goes back down hill again. And that can be so very tiring and so very demoralizing. So yes, so very much of me wants to shout yes! I would get rid of my mental illnesses.

And yet there is another part of me which shouts no! No I wouldn’t. And the really weird thing is that this is the larger part when it comes to this question.

That having been said I think in some ways how I view my mental illnesses is like how I viewed hitchhiking. (And yes I did my fair share of hitchhiking when I was younger.) And when I did do it I had a love hate relationship with it. Whilst it was sunny and warm or I was sat in someone’s nice car or the cab of their lorry, chatting away and being totally free to go wherever I pleased, I simply loved it. But when it was cold and wet and the rain was pouring down and I was stuck on the side of the road or motorway slip-road I absolutely hated it.

Yes, in some ways I view my mental health in the same way. When my mental health is reasonably good – when I am going through better episodes – I can see some benefits from it. But when I am going through bad episodes or have just come out of bad episodes I hate it.

But there is another reason why I would have to say no, I wouldn’t get rid of my mental illnesses and that reason is linked to my faith.

Why I would not get rid of my mental illnesses.

Those of you who know me well, or are regular readers will know that I am a Christian. And whilst I try very hard not to bang on about my faith, and to keep this blog specifically focused on Mental Health issues. My faith is a very real part of me and is core to who I am. It is therefore impossible for me to answer this question without mentioning my faith.

An essential part of that faith is to trust in Christ in all things. I have given my life to Christ and I do my best to do that – to trust in Him. Yes I sometimes fail. But, wherever possible, I do try to trust in Him in all things. Including in my Mental Illnesses and with my Mental Health.

And that can be so very difficult at times, can’t it? Especially (for me personally) when my mental illnesses seem to take over and my mental health deteriorates.

Not only because of the trials that I (and many others like me) face during these times. But because the very illness itself often leads to an inability to focus well enough to pray. Or well enough to read my bible. Or even well enough to benefit from listening to my much loved praise and worship music.

Additionally, and so very importantly, because part of my mental illnesses is depression and that depression itself seems to creep up on me, and envelope me and to rob me of any and all sense of hope.

But He, and those who love me – including my brothers and sisters in Christ – has brought me through my mental illnesses this far and I trust that He will continue to do so.

Have I prayed over my mental illnesses, or received prayers from others over it? Yes, most certainly. And in those prayers I have always sought God’s will for my mental health. And that is the key phrase here. Seeking God’s will.

If God is to be sovereign in my life, then He must be sovereign over my wellness and also over my sicknesses. If it is His will to remove my mental illnesses then, trust me, I would be delighted. But if, for some reason, He chooses not to remove my mental illnesses then I have to yield to that decision and to trust Him in that.

Now I know, first hand and as a result of countless conversations, that some Christian believe that we only have to ask God for healing and that He will alwaysimmediately heal us. Personally I do not subscribe to that belief and personally I believe such a believe to be un-scriptural. Do I believe God gives healing – absolutely I do. But do I believe it is always instant – absolutely not. And again, I have written on this before as well.

And in that post I remember sharing a video which I found to be very inspirational and so I am going to share that again here.

If I could get rid of my mental illness(es) would I?

In truth, I leave that question very much up to my God.

Of course I would be glad to lose all the negatives and trials resultant from it. I am only human after all. But there are positives in my life which, as far as I know, could be directly linked to my mental illnesses and I would not want to lose them. And additionally I have to be aware that God may have a purpose in all this – I just don’t know for sure.

But I do know one thing for sure… If, it is God’s will not to remove my mental illnesses this side of heaven, then I would rather experience a lifetime of mental illness and remain within the will God then spend one minute free from mental illnesses and be outside of His will.

(Oh yes, I promised to post a link to my previous answer to this question, didn’t I? You can find that post here.)

Day 16: How many people are you “out” to with your mental illness(es)? Why?

Being ‘out’ about my metal illnesses…

The short and simple answer to today’s question is, for me, that I am ‘out’ with my mental illnesses to most people.

That is not to say that everyone who knows me knows that I suffer from mental illness or poor mental health. But it is – I think – true to say that most of them do.

As for why this is the case, well that comes from a number of different reasons…

Why am I ‘out’ about my mental illnesses?

Firstly, having spent the majority of my life hiding or trying to conceal my mental illnesses I reached a point in my life (in 1999 when I suffered a complete mental and physical breakdown) where I could hide them no longer.

And so, as a result of this, my family and associates became very much aware of my mental health issues.

And whilst this was a particularly difficult time for both myself and my family, it was (once I had started my recovery) both a huge relief and a huge release and did also mean that I could finally get some proper help with it.

No more could I hide my mental illnesses from my family and associates and no more could I hide it in my professional life or ministry. In fact, as a result of those breakdowns, I was no longer able to work and was medically retired and placed on long-term disability.

Which brings me to the second reason why I am ‘out’ concerning my mental illnesses to most people…

Secondly, having spent so much time and effort trying to hide my mental illnesses (and/or trying to explain away or limit any damage done as a result of it) and now being finally free of this burden, I simply didn’t want to go back there.

The truth is that I could finally get the help that I needed and I knew – if I was going to have any chance of repairing some of the damage done to my family as a result of my mental illnesses – and indeed limit the potential for further damage I needed to face what had been and was going on with me and to get the help I had desperately needed for so long.

And finally, or thirdly, another reason why I am out to ‘most’ people concerning my mental illnesses is in fact this and other mental health related blogs which I write.

In my attempt to recover from my breakdowns (1999) I started writing out what I was going through or had gone through. It was a way of my trying to make sense of it all. My way of processing it all. Something else which I had, I thought out of necessity, often avoided in the past.

From this – and knowing the isolation that I had always experienced in my mental illness and realizing just how damaging that had been – I wanted to share what I had experienced and to somehow let others know that they are not alone and indeed didn’t have to be alone.

So I started this blog (and then other blogs). But when I started this blog I was faced with a choice and a very real decision to make. Did I write anonymously, as other bloggers who write about their mental illness seem to do? Or do I write openly under my own name?

And that is a decision many bloggers have to make.

Trust me, having hidden my mental illnesses for so long I truly understood the necessity for some bloggers to write anonymously. But since my breakdowns (when everything came to light in a very real and unavoidable way) and since I was no longer working and thus had very few reasons to hide my mental illnesses any more, there was no longer a need for a mask of anonymity. My mask had very clearly been removed.

And whilst this very much left me feeling (in many ways) both naked and vulnerable. It did also bring with it a great deal of freedom.

So yes, I am ‘out’ about my mental illnesses to most people. This blog is a matter of public record and is in the public domain and is linked to, and often contains, not only to my real name but also my real face.

Additionally it is linked to both my twitter account and to my Facebook account. So that whenever I post on here it appears on both of those also. And in this way, there is no longer any hiding.

The results of being ‘out’ about my mental illnesses…

In truth, (and from what I can tell from comments family and others have made) those who want to know more about my mental illnesses or my mental health read my blog posts and some ask me about them or comment on them. Doing so either on here, on Facebook, in email, or by private messages or in person.

I actively encourage these questions and comments as in the dialogue that follows not only do I feel that I learn and benefit but that others also seem to learn and benefit. And those comments and questions also often challenge my perspectives.

And here, I think I would like to close by including one last topic into the mix.

The challenges of being ‘out’ about my mental health…

But being ‘out’ about my mental health isn’t always a bed of roses and it does indeed have it’s associated challenges. Mental Illness and indeed Mental Health is still not fully understood or fully accepted by everyone.

In truth, it still carries with it a great deal of misconceptions, misunderstandings and even stigma. Mental Illness unsettles some people. Challenges other people. Confuses a lot of people and threatens yet other people.

One example of this, which is directly applicable to my own experience, is in respect of the church and the Christian community.

I am a Christian and have been a Christian for a good many years. I am a member of an extremely loving and compassionate and caring and Christ-centered church. And trust me, I am so blessed to be a part of them.

But even in this loving, compassionate, caring and Christ-centered community of believers I still meet folk for whom my mental illnesses bring confusion. Folk who are unsettled by my being a Christian with mental illnesses. Folk for whom the presence of my mental illnesses seems to threaten their understanding of faith.

And trust me, as sad as I find it to be, I do – at least in part – understand this. And it is one of the reasons why I ‘out’ and why I actively encourage; objective, loving and sensitive discussion and dialogue concerning my mental illnesses.

When asked about my faith and my mental illnesses here is the reply I often give…

My mental illnesses do not limit either my faith or my Christ, only (at times) my ability to enjoy or fully experience my faith and my Christ. But here’s another equally important question for you. Does your attitude towards my mental illnesses limit your faith and your experience of Christ?

If you want to know more about my mental illnesses and/or my faith all you have to do is ask. I would love for you to do so.

Day 8: What age you were diagnosed at? At what age do you think your symptoms began? (You can make a timeline)

I have to be honest here and admit that today’s question/topic is one which really got me thinking.

Which, since my brain recently seems totally incapable of shutting or slowing down and letting me rest, started late yesterday evening and continued into the early hours of this morning.

One of my biggest difficulties with this particular question (as with a lot of things it seems) is that my memory just doesn’t seem to function properly. Whilst I might – if I am particularly fortunate – remember events and key or important happenings or experiences in my life, actually putting a date or time frame on them can be much more problematic.

As a result of this I spent several hours creating a timeline in respect of my mental health using key events as memory joggers or point plotters. Even so, in the interest of objectivity and fair play I have to admit (and add the disclaimer) that whilst the timings are, to the best of my recollection correct, I may be slightly off here and there.

So that having been said the question does call for an interesting comparison between when I actually received a diagnosis and when I believe my symptoms first began. And for me, and I know from my involvement with the Mental Health Writers Guild as well as from conversations with other bloggers. that I am not alone in this. I had been aware of my symptoms years before gaining a diagnosis.

Actually, in all honesty, I had been aware of my symptoms – albeit that I hadn’t at first recognized them or thought of them as ‘symptoms of actual mental illness’ – in my childhood. Certainly as early as my mid childhood and possibly even before. (Another facet of my memory problems is that I do not remember my early childhood other than one or two specific events).

In fact it wasn’t until my early teenage years before I started to formulate an understanding that what I had initially simply considered as me being ‘different’ might just be indications of mental illness.

As I have mentioned elsewhere, realizing as a child that you were somehow ‘different’ and that others seemed to react (often negatively) to those differences, generated a response of trying to hide those differences. And this – coupled with a fear of actually being labelled as ‘mentally ill’ and all that this could possibly result in – led me to hide my mental health for a great many years.

It is also worth noting that this was many years ago now and our understanding of mental illness and mental health was not as good as it is now. It is funny but as I re-read some of my old school reports and knowing what I know about my mental illness (and which of course they did not know at the time) I see the comments of my teachers and understand the reasons behind them.

The first three images are teacher’s comments and the fourth the Head Master’s comments from 1972 when I was 10. The next (and fifth) image is the Head Master’s comment from the following year. and the others from 1973.

Continual lapses in concentration where simply seen as ‘day dreaming’ or just that – un-investigated lapses in concentration. No one seemed to ever expect that they may be resultant from the dialogues going on in my head or from poor mental health and no one seemed to ever consider that the ‘clever retorts’ mentioned in the Head Master’s overall comment (image four) might indicate something deeper than a ‘smart-arsed’ or rebellious kid. And I (and my backside) can personally assure you that my father only saw such behavior at school as ‘bad’ or ‘rebellious’ behavior.

No, as far as I can recall, the status of my mental health and indeed the possibility of any mental illness did not seem to be discussed (at least not in my presence) or considered throughout my early to mid childhood. I had hidden my ‘differences’ and I had hidden them well.

My teenage years were a slightly different story however. Although even then I was able to get away with hiding most of my symptoms.

Whilst unable to put a two or three significant events on the timeline that I have created – due to my not remembering exactly when they took place. I do remember my self-harming starting at some point in my early teens. I also remember a number of close calls and unsuccessful attempts to end my life. Most of which happened outside the family home, but one – which I remember vividly happening within the family home when my older sister found me with a carving knife by my wrists.

Strangely, whilst I have a crystal clear (as if I could replay the dvd in my mind) recollection of my sitting in a complete state in our kitchen, with a wet flannel on my forehead and my big sister hovering over me and making sure I was alright and calming me down. I have no memory or how my parents reacted to the episode.

However, I do also have a specific and vivid memory, although my mother doesn’t recall this and is therefore unable to help with the dating of the event, being taken to see a psychiatrist at some point in my early to early to mid teenage years.

I remember vividly our attending a local health center and being shown into a room and my sitting opposite this strange man sat across a desk from me. I remember with crystal recollection the feeling of unease and mistrust which I felt concerning both him (the psychiatrist) and the younger man who was stood behind him.

I remember the fact that he (the psychiatrist – for the younger man simply observed and was probably just a student) asked me a series of questions whilst at the same time (in intervals of but a few minutes) rolling pencils (which were lined up flat on the desk and sideways on to me) across the desk, towards me, and onto the floor.

I remember deliberately avoiding answering the psychiatrist’s questions truthfully and deliberately not reacting to his rolling the pencils towards me. I also remember studying the younger man stood behind him and noting that his shirt collar was dirty and his shirt in desperate need of an iron.

I also remember having a great deal of personal satisfaction when he announced to my parent(s) that whilst I had ‘issues’ my responses to his questions did not indicate any clear mental illness. I remember distinctly the sense of pride I felt that I had out-smarted him. Which given my unease and mistrust concerning him was understandable.

But other than the aforementioned specific incident any concerns about my mental health – which whilst I am sure must have been considered and discussed behind my parent’s closed bedroom door and at times when we kids were not around – was never really raised or discussed.

I have learned to, and to all intents and purposes had been successful in hiding my mental illnesses and this continued throughout my life until around the period 1994/5-1998.

The years between my early to mid teenage and this point had been ones full of stress, secrecy, self medication, a bout of street homelessness, a period of self-medication through illegal drugs, reckless acts, manic or reckless spending, lots of hiding and even more secrecy and a great deal of avoiding and running from the potential fall out of things I had done previously.

I had renewed the faith which I had had all through my childhood and which I had discarded not as a result of any doubting the existence of God. But simply as a result of the deep seated conviction that no-one (who really knew me – and after all God knows everything) ever being able to want me. I had gotten married, had a wonderful son, started some wonderful relationships and friendships and was in full time Christian ministry.

But I was living a double life. On the outside I was successful and very respected and yet inside I was a wreck. I knew the truth, I knew I was living a double life and was on borrowed time. And most of all I knew the fragility of my mental health and my past and I knew that past would soon catch up with me.

My ministry and client group brought me in regular contact with the local mental health team and mental health practitioners and I also had a family doctor who was also a friend and a member of the same church as me. I began to open up with him about my mental health and he agreed to see me privately and to help me work through some of the issues. It was only at this point did I ever truly receive any external indication of possible diagnoses concerning my mental health.

Sadly however, it was also at this point when the fall-out from my previous life caught up with me. Unbeknownst to my wife and son (my son being but 4 years old at the time, I was a financial wreck as a result of my previous drug use, financial mismanagement and extremely reckless spending even prior to that. The wolves were not only at the door, they were out for blood. I could run, hide and avoid this no longer. My marriage, my ministry, my family and even my freedom was at very real risk. With the help of two wonderful friends from my church – who out of desperation I had finally opened up to and gone to for help, and by the grace of God (and trust me it had to be an act of God) I managed to avoid prison, begin to address my financial mess and most important of all I told my wife the full story of my financial mess.

And I have to say that my wife was wonderful about it all. Despite all the lies and secrecy going back some thirteen years of our being together (seven of them as a married couple) she stood by me and helped me to rebuild my and thus our finances.

But even at that time I could not bring myself to open up about my mental illnesses and poor mental health. I was frightened it would be one lie, one secrecy, one deception too much. Additionally I was frightened that (if it got out) I would lose my employment and ministry and on top of that (if I am truly honest) there was my pride at stake.

But the fact is that once my financial state was out in the open and I was no longer able to hide it or from it or to avoid it, it did indeed begin to take a toll on my mental health. Other circumstance also came into play and my employment and ministry ended and another began.

Part of my avoidance of detection of my mental health and part of my avoidance of the fall out from my previous financial recklessness had been our moving across country from our hometown. But I decided that, since I no longer needed to run from my financial problems, we could move back to our hometown. So having secured employment there, and in response to some health needs within my wife’s family we did just that.

But the truth is that I really wasn’t as well as I thought I was mentally and at the same time my physical health had for some time now also suffered. Likewise, whilst the fact that my financial difficulties were out in the open did remove a great deal of stress we still had a lot of financial pressures.

All through my working life I had used my work as a way of limiting the amount of time I would have to spend with any one person and thus limiting the chances of anyone detecting my mental illnesses. Additionally, my almost life-long sense of being ‘damaged’ and ‘not fitting in’ drove me away from enjoying intimate or close relationships. Something which must have truly hurt my wife and family and friends and for which I am truly sorry, but just couldn’t express or reveal.

This in turn led to my taking on increase work loads and with the death of both my father in law – in 1997 and my own father in early 1999. Both of which having tremendous impacts on me emotionally and mentally for varying and different reasons. The inevitable happened and in late 1999 I suffered a complete mental and physical breakdown.

It was only as a result of this and my inability to avoid or hide my mental illnesses any more that I was referred to the local mental health team and only then (at the age of 37 when I actually got my first official diagnoses.

So why am I sharing all this with you?

I am acutely aware that this post (like a lot of mine it seems LOL) has been very long. And I just hope it hasn’t been too boring or confused for you. But I truly believe that it is so very important – when we consider mental illness – that we understand just some of the complex issues that can be associated even with gaining a diagnosis. And indeed with a person who experiences mental illness even admitting his or her illness.

It is my fervent hope and prayer that by my sharing this others will be encouraged – or at least not feel so alone in their struggles. And that those who do not personally suffer from mental illness or poor mental health but are reading this will be able to understand it’s effects a little better.

It is also my fervent prayer that we look more deeply and more compassionately and objectively at some of the behaviors which can be presented in childhood and without leaping to any conclusions or rushing to (potentially harmfully) label a child, will consider that perhaps his or her behavior is not just a lack of discipline, or attention, or effort, and not just ‘bad’ or ‘inappropriate’ behavior or ‘rebelliousness.

I also want to acknowledge and thank all those who have loved and supported me throughout all of the above and to acknowledge that I do so very clearly recognize God’s grace in it all.

To the person who came up with this challenge (and you know who you are) I want to truly thank you for this question and the idea of creating a ‘timeline‘. As I said above I have done just that and it has truly helped me. And for those who are interested a pdf file of this can be viewed here.

Day 4: What are the pros and cons of having a mental illness(es) or your specific illness(es)?

This is a question (or subject) which I have often reflected on and indeed written on.

And in truth, there will no doubt be some commonalities in the answers given by different people doing this challenge. But because we are all unique and our circumstances unique I don’t doubt that there will no doubt be some answers that I give, which are entirely specific to me.

I think I am going to deal with the ‘cons’ first as I would very much like to end this post on a positive note rather than a negative one.

The ‘Cons’

Ok first the explanatory disclaimer. The truth is that there are a whole myriad of cons which can be associated to having mental illness or experiencing poor mental health. But in the interest of not boring you to tears or being seen as a ‘winging winnie’ I will list just some of the main ones.

Likewise, there are of course, as I indicated above, the common cons which will appear below but also perhaps some very personal ones…

The Stigma which is often so very wrongly attached to poor mental health/mental illness and indeed the resultant fall out from it.

Thankfully we (humankind) do appear to be making great strides in addressing this as our understanding of mental health and mental illness improves, but even so it really is still a huge problem. Some people simply don’t understand and, as a result of this, feel somewhat unsure – even threatened – by mental illness and poor mental health.

One such example of this is sadly present within the modern-day church. Many Christians struggle with the very concept of a Christian having poor mental health or having a mental illness. And trust me ( I know from first hand experience) where that mental illness causes depression or even suicidal thoughts this can send Christians into all sorts of conflicts and resultant arguments, assumptions, misconceptions, and responses.

Secondly, there are the Broken or Strained Relationships which sadly also seem to go hand in hand with mental illness and poor mental health. I have little to no doubt that my mental illnesses have – either through my own actions and lack of understanding, or through the actions and lack of understanding of others – damaged and even wrecked relationships which would have survived or even flourished if no mental illness was present.

And then there are, certainly for me personally, the Distorted Perceptions. These are times when I simply seem to see things in a totally different way to others. Where my understanding of what is happening or what took place is so very different from the other person’s understanding. Of course this can happen even where no mental illness is present but it does seem that where mental illness is present – or at very least where my mental illnesses are present – the frequency or chances of this happening are increased.

Those of you who are bothering to read all this and who are observant will probably notice that this is also linked to one of the ‘Pros’ I will list later. But in the negative it can also bring about…

‘Confusion and Self-Doubt‘ are things which often reign as a result of my mental illness and the ‘distorted memories’ which I mentioned above. So many times my mental illnesses can bring with them altered states of reality and consequently you end up often doubting yourself, your memory or your understanding.

And the last two/three examples lead me very neatly to what I like to call the ‘Cop-out Clause Effect‘. This is the label I give to those situations and circumstances where the other person has failed to see or understand your opinion or point of view in a situation. And where, instead of trying to understand or even consider that they could be wrong or might have behaved badly, they simply put the whole thing down to your mental illness. Man that can be so very annoying when it happens.

And conversely there is the ‘Get out of Jail free card‘ which is often played on your behalf when you have mental illness. I fully understand and accept, (indeed I know first hand) that sometimes my mental illnesses cause me to behave or react badly to things. And certainly I accept that, when this happens, any response to said reaction or behavior should take my mental health into consideration. BUT I am also fully aware that sometimes my behavior or reactions are not in the least bit due to my mental illness or poor mental health I am just simply behaving badly. And thus any reaction to this should not offer me a ‘get out of jail free card’ but instead hold me as accountable as anyone else.

Now I understand that this can be a veritable mine-field for folk, but I am a big boy now and I am essentially honest to a fault and I am convinced that calm, reasonable, adult conversation concerning what happened will soon afford the truth behind what took place.

And the penultimate ‘con’ in my list of cons about having mental illness is the ‘often hidden‘ and ‘fluctuating states of play‘ which can (and certainly are in my case) experienced.

Mental illness is not like having a broken leg where everyone can see you are wearing a splint of cast around your leg and so don’t therefore ask you to play football, run races or climb ladders.

It (in my case and experience) often fluctuates in the way and severity in which both presents itself and indeed in how it affects me. And in truth it can also often remain hidden.

This can often mean that folk fail to understand what your mental state is at any given time and thus fail to understand your capabilities or reactions. It can also mean that – as in my case where I am classed as being ‘extremely high functioning’ – when your mental illness does cause an odd or unusual reaction or behavior in you, the resultant damage can be greater than it would have been if your mental illness was recognized or understood in that situation.

And there is another aspect of this which is extremely important. (although I am really not sure I am explaining any of this very well at all). Because of the ‘often hidden’ and ‘fluctuating state of play’ of my mental health and because I am considered and (I accept) present as ‘extremely high functioning’ folk simply assume that I am able to cope with most things most of the time until my mental health goes wonky. This is simply not the case! There are aspects and areas where I am simply not able to cope and thus am a complete wreck in those areas.

Which brings me to the last ‘con’ which I will share in my soul-bearing list of cons attached to my mental illnesses. And that is the state of playing ‘catch up and repair’ which can often result from mental illness or poor mental health.

Whilst I have freely admitted that there are certain aspects and areas where, as a result of my mental illnesses, I am a wreck, generally speaking I am extremely high functioning and do cope with most things. But when the state of my mental health worsens things do go awry and chaos and confusion seem to reign.

This means that, once my mental health improves again (and yes my mental illnesses presents itself in such a cyclical fashion) I am forced into a state of playing ‘catch up and repair’. Examples of this are such things as…

the tidiness of my home,

eating patterns disordered,

correspondence ignored and not replied to or dealt with,

bills not being paid and the monies set aside for them spent on other often useless and frivolous things,

medication not taken as prescribed,

increased isolation and commitments and appointments not kept.

So there you have just some (ok quite a few) of the myriad of ‘cons’ attached to my mental illnesses. But, as I said before, I don’t want to end on a negative note. And, in truth, I really do try to keep a positive outlook concerning my mental illnesses. So here are just some of the ‘pros’ definitely or potentially attached to my mental health/mental illnesses.

The ‘Pros’

Very top of my list has to be that I truly believe that my mental illnesses afford me ‘a different way of seeing‘. It can be a hard thing to describe but it somehow opens your eyes to considering things in a different and often much deeper way than a lot of people seem to do.

‘an inner strength‘ and ‘perseverance‘. Again a difficult one to describe or truly pin point. As a Cristian a great deal of my inner strength no doubt comes from my faith. But I also recognize that because so many of the most simplest of tasks – which many folk take for granted – often, as a result of my mental health, take far more effort or concentration.

The words of Romans 5:1-4 (NKJV) tells us.. “Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, 2 through whom also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. 3 And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; 4 and perseverance, character; and character, hope. “

And whilst this is primarily applicable to faith, the statement ‘Knowing that tribulation produces perseverance’, is extremely relevant to what I am talking about here. That is not to say that we ( and more personally I) don’t struggle or don’t grow weary and I for one can truly understand when mental illness brings you to a point of despair and a desire to end it all. But the bright side of it all has to be the strength that is shown even making it as far as we have sometimes.

‘Creativity‘ Here again this might well be linked to one or two of the ones above ‘a different way of seeing’ and ‘an acute sense of humor’ for example. But I do accept that I am or can be extremely creative. Or ‘artsy’ as some folk have labelled me. I write poetry, novels, blogs. I draw, sketch, paint, sculpt. I love acting. All of these things a very possibly related to my mental illness and it is perhaps interesting that Stephen Fry (and others) – in his documentaries “The Secret Life of a Manic Depressive” when answering the question “If there was a big red button which, when pushed, would remove your bipolar disorder – would you push it?” also considered within his answer how many positives he might also lose along with his bipolar.

‘Deep thinking‘ Also linked to one or two of the above, my mind – which after all is the very same mind which has the mental illnesses – seems to allow me to think extremely deeply and indeed to take my thought processes off on a myriad of side journeys and considerations. (Which trust me can sometimes be just as much a curse as a blessing). But this does allow me to unwrap thoughts, questions and topics extremely deeply at times and does open up a whole world of different perspectives and understandings.

‘Being able to relate‘ One of the greatest benefits of suffering from mental illness for me personally has to be that it has brought with it an ability and openness to relate to others with similar challenges or difficulties in their lives.

Mental illness does, as I have said elsewhere, all to often push people away. It can make people unsure of themselves or of how to communicate with or behave around folk who have mental illness.

And this is so very tragic as by shunning or avoiding folk – by effectively writing off – who have mental illness we lose a wealth of experience and creativity and beauty that we would so very much benefit from. If suffering from mental illness myself has brought me just the ability to understand this then truly it is worth it!

‘A reluctance to judge people‘ Oh how very grateful I am for this one! How many times in my life have I felt misjudged or misunderstood? And as a result of this I try so very hard not to do the same thing. I am acutely aware that so very often we do not know (or at times people don’t even bother to consider) the back story behind the way a person acts or reacts.

‘A heightened awareness of injustice.’ Is the last ‘Pro’ that I am going to share in my list of ‘Pros’. And again whilst I think this is also intrinsically linked to my faith I cannot, in all honesty, separate it from being a bi-product of my mental illness.

I have seen (and personally experienced) a great deal of injustice in my time and it never gets easier to stomach and never gets easier to find acceptable. Often times I find myself understanding (to some degree or another) the causes of said injustices but they always still sadden me so very deeply.

Many have been liked to mental illness but in truth not all of them are. And I will stop myself from going off on a rant here. But suffice to say that when you have, as a result of your mental health or your involvement in mental health awareness, witnessed or experienced injustice you do seem to become attuned to it or have your awareness heightened to it.

Conclusion

So there you have my list of just some of the pros and cons attached to having my mental illnesses. As I read back over them there are so many others that I could include and indeed some which can be both a pro and a con depending on the circumstances or approach to them.

I just hope they haven’t bored you (the reader) too much and I am of course willing to discuss them further should anyone wish to comment on them.

I also recognize that not all of them a exclusively specific to mental illness and many of them could be resultant from other factors. This is so often the case with a lot of things, is it not? But for me there is without doubt some correlation between my personal experience of them and my mental illnesses.

If I am honest I am not, at this point of my writing this, totally sure if I am doing so by way of an announcement that I am aware of what is going on/what I think is going on OR, as the case may well be, by way of my verbalizing – and thus processing – what seems to be going on at the moment.

The Plot:

But there is, or so it seems to me – divine or otherwise – a plot to make me socialize more.

A plot – if you will – to bring the outside in and/or to make me spend more time outside.

Now whether it be a token of my grumpy old git status (which I am more than happy to have – in a relatively grumpy kind of way) or by way of my Aspergers but the truth is that I much prefer my usual state virtual of isolation.

That having been said I am not currently, of course, a complete hermit.

(Unlike the soul in this wonderful picture by Rhys Griffiths. Which I found over at Art-Spire),

I do in fact go out occasionally. I go to a mid-week Bible Study and of course to Church on a Sunday. (Woohoo aren’t I the veritable party animal?)

And if pressed I even have been known to go shopping every now and then. Although online shopping is, I must confess, my preferred source of groceries and the such.

But of late I have noticed a very real and very definite trend in folk trying to get me outside, and even folk coming in into my world – my safe little bubble which I call home.

The Problem with the Plot:

Don’t people understand that we ‘Aspies’ like – or at very least seem to prefer – isolation? Even if it is not, as is suggested by many folk, good for us?

Heck even as a young man – back when I hid my mental health – I lived in a flat on the top of a very tall seaside building and would – much to the confusion and frustration of my wife – come home from work and close the curtains. Thereby shutting out the world and yes even the picturesque sea-side views. Not to mention a wonderful view of an old church.

From whence does this plot come?

Primarily, it seems, it is coming from my family (and I include some of my church family in that as co-conspirators. They who love me and who know – whilst I am of course reluctant to admit it – that actually I am better off socializing and that isolating is not at all good for me.

Of course I do also accept that the plot might be divinely inspired. Hey I am a Christian and would not a loving heavenly Father also want for me to socialize more if it was good for me?

Hm. My name is Kevin and so I am, at very least, a name-sake of Saint Kevin who was a religious hermit who lived in Glendalough – not many miles away from where I live.

I wonder if I could claim religious hermitage and foil the plot? OK Perhaps not.

And therewithin lies the essential question doesn’t it? “Should I even be trying to foil the plot?”

Doing what is best verses what is easiest:

IF, and I emphasize that at this point it is still an if, I am better when I do not isolate, and indeed and better off when I socialize, then why do we “Aspies” (as the following video demonstrates) prefer isolation and solitude?

And are we – by choosing isolation and solitude – simply finding a simpler and more convenient solution (an avoidance even) to a much more complicated problem?

As a Christian, I want to do God’s will. And whilst I may have joked (above) about religious or faith-based isolation, the truth is that I do not for one minute believe it to be God’s will for me. So whilst Bible Study groups and Church may not be my most comfortable places to be I do still go to them.

Likewise, as a Father I know that isolation and solitude are not good for my children and so do not encourage it in them.

And (as one of my daughters pointed out this morning) why would I myself do what I wouldn’t encourage them to do? Hm. It Can be so annoying having smart kids sometimes 🙂

The Conclusion:

So being sociable is not my natural preferred state. Isolation is my safe harbor. But if it is not good for me and defeats the purpose of my being then I must fight my natural preferred state and indeed try to accommodate, learn and accept a new state.

But isolation provides security and seclusion. It removes many of the stressors to my mental health and affords me the seclusion to hide my mental health -especially when it is bad. Stepping out from that – or even allowing others to step inside my secluded harbor is scary!

Yes, I often write about my mental health and even share the worst of it – the bad episodes etc. But I do so retrospectively and behind the security of the screen. A virtual sharing if you will. But to actually open up in “real time” so to speak is very scary indeed.

And yet is that not love? Does not love require openness, vulnerability, trust?

So yes, I will comply – albeit reluctantly and very prayerfully – with this plot and see where it leads. LOL Not that I am promising it will be an easy ride or that I will go quietly. BUT I will at least try.

Sometimes, or so it seems to me, I have difficulties getting what is on the inside out to the outside.

Now, having just typed that statement, I freely accept that there are some – who know me beyond just words on a screen – who would be hard-pressed to believe I could ever struggle to get what is on the inside out into the outside.

In other words I accept freely that I am perhaps not always known for my diplomacy and tact 🙂

But what you see isn’t always what is truly happening now is it?

Indeed, for those of us who struggle with self-harming, one of the statements you will often hear in response to the question “why?” will be based around the need to actually “feel” something or “see” something tangible. To somehow “feel” or “see” what is “trapped inside” actually coming out in one way or another.

And trust me that is a very negative web and thought process. It really is short-term gain leading to long-term pain.

But for some of us who suffer with mental health issues that whole process of getting what is inside to come out to the outside can be a virtual minefield.

Firstly there is the whole issue of trust (or lack thereof) that is going on inside of us sometimes.

Do we really trust what we perceive to be happening?

Can we really trust our own thoughts?

And even if we do trust them, can we really trust the person we are speaking with to actually understand them let alone respect them?

And trust me the severity or level of impact of such questions can vary according to what state our mind – or even our lives – are in at any given time. Folk who, like me, struggle with voices and negative (often-times harmful) internal dialogues and who are therefore subject to stressful or difficult ‘episodes’ are far less likely to trust when in or when having just come out of such an episode than we are when things have been fairly good – And this is totally understandable isn’t it?

The difficulty is however, the more you experience such episodes the more they (and the resultant lack of trust) become the ‘norm’ and so that lack of trust can grow like a cancer in your life.

I found this wonderful illustration by an artist called “jollyself” over on the templates.com blog .

For me it so encapsulates the passion and yet the tragedy that is the disconnect that I am talking about between the inside and the outside for some of those of us who suffer with mental health issues.

In it I see both that disconnect and indeed the artificial, unreal, nature of how we perceive our own thoughts our own perceptions to be sometimes.

Over the past few days I have been struggling with these. Struggling to keep my mind focused. Fighting to keep a grasp on the real and to not give way to those harmful, negative, self-sabotaging thoughts.

So why am I writing this post?

Is it because I am feeling defeated? Not not at all!

I recognize the struggle (and in many ways the need to express and even explain – especially to those who love me and who will read this post – just where I am right now.

But I am certainly not yet at the point of feeling defeated.

Nor, just for the record, am I at a point of mania. Heck I am far to tired and physically weak to enter into a manic episodes right now.

No, I am writing this post right now because not only do I need to explain – to those who love me and who will be reading this post – just where I am at the moment but more importantly to try to offer some hope to others who may be going through such thoughts and feelings.

You see I know this ‘disconnect’ so very well. I know it’s methods, its nature and it’s potential outcome. But what is more I know it’s lies, it’s falsehoods and its trickery. And what is more I know that it can be defeated!

The truth is that this disconnect, this break between the inside and the outside is not real.

It is a corrupted perception as a result of the thought processes my mind is throwing up at the moment. And when that happens we need to cling on to the real. To remove our focus from the unstable and focus on the stable.

As a mental health sufferer finding that stability can be so very difficult can’t it?

But I am a Christian and as a Christian mental health sufferer I know something which, someone who will always remain stable. And that is the Lord. And it is on the Lord that I build my confidence and my strength.

So if you, like me, are struggling at the moment – I encourage you to hold on – there is hope. And I encourage you to pray. God is bigger than our mental health and His love – through Christ His son – is so very real. And nothing, not even our mental health issues – if we truly call to Him – can separate us from that love.

Perhaps one of the well known accounts in the bible is that of the woman who touched the hem of Christ’s robe and was healed.

It can be found in Mark 5:25-34 and also in Matthew 9:20-22 and Luke 8:40 – 48 and it tells the story of a woman who touched the hem of Christ’s garment and who was healed as a result of doing so and more importantly as a result of her faith.

It’s a wonderful account and one that I can relate to on so many levels. The woman had been suffering for years. She had faith that Christ had the power, authority and ability to choose to heal her. She reached out to Him.

As I said I can relate to her on so many levels. I too have been ill for years. I too have faith that Christ has the power, authority and ability to choose to heal me. I too have reached out to Him.

But of course there is one important difference (other than the fact that I am a guy). And that difference begs the question “What if?”

What if instead of healing her, Christ had reached down and lifted her into His arms and carried her home and tended to her? What if He; comforted her, encouraged and supported her? What if He had some purpose in not healing her right there and then? Would He be any less the Christ? Any less the Son of God? Any less God Himself?

If God is indeed sovereign with the power, authority and ability to choose to heal me, does He not also have the same power, authority and ability to choose not to heal me, or to do so at a time and place more fitting to His purpose for my life?

See I fully believe Christ can heal and that one day He will heal me but I recognize ad acknowledge the truth of my life and the examples in the bible where healing hasn’t been instant and I yield to His sovereign will for my life in health and in sickness as well.

And what is more I recognize, acknowledge and give thanks for the times when He has reached down and lifted me into His arms and carried me home and tended to me! When He; comforted me, encouraged me and supported me through the really difficult times of my illnesses both physical and mental!

What if Christ has some purpose in not healing me right there and then? Would He be any less the Christ? Any less the Son of God? Any less God Himself?

Regular readers of this blog will know that I am both a Christian and someone who struggles with suicidal thoughts as part of my mental health.

This perhaps place me in a position which is fairly different to a lot of folk as it places me in a position where conversations about suicide and faith are fairly common place.

And I have to tell you that my own personal experience is that very often the albeit well meaning responses of Christians, just as with many other folk, concerning suicide can be both so very unhealthy and so very unhelpful for those of us who do struggle with suicidal thoughts.

Now before continuing, let me just make this statement of fact. I currently attend a church here in Ireland where their approach to the whole subject of suicide is generally extremely good and extremely; loving, understanding, informed and helpful. But sadly this can be the exception to the rule.

So let’s look at the facts… (The following bullet-pointed facts were supplied by the IASP working in official relations with the World Health Organization.)

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Suicide is one of the leading causes of death in the world, especially among young people.

Nearly one million people worldwide die by suicide each year.This corresponds to one death by suicide every 40 seconds.

(This staggering figure makes it one of the most important issues facing mankind today…)

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The number of lives lost each year through suicide exceeds the number of deaths due to homicide and war combined.

(Either as individuals or indeed as members of churches and faith based groups, we cannot afford to turn a blind eye or be misinformed concerning this issue.)
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These staggering figures do not include nonfatal suicide attempts which occur much more frequently than deaths by suicide.

A large proportion of people who die by suicide suffer from mental illness.

(Not everyone who suffers from mental illness will contemplate suicide just as not everyone who contemplates suicide will have suffered from mental illness.)

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Recent estimates suggest that the disease burden caused by mental illnesses will account for 25% of the total disease burden in the world in the next two decades, making it the most important category of ill-health (more important than cancer or heart diseases.)

(Any church or faith based organization wishing to minister love, support and hope in this world must therefore be aware of this issue.)
———————————————————-oOo——————————————————–

A significant number of those with mental illnesses who die by suicide do not contact health or social services near the time of their death. In many instances, there are insufficient services available to assist those in need at times of crisis.

(Which again makes it a fundamental issue for churches and faith based organizations and this in turn makes it essential that churches and faith based organizations are both aware of the issue and indeed develop proper and healthy approaches to this issue.)

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The facts are staggering aren’t they? Add to these the stigma that is all too often attached to those who suffer from mental illness or suicidal thoughts and trust me you seemingly get a very bleak picture indeed.

But there is hope! I truly believe that and I truly believe that the church has a very definite place in providing that hope.

As individual Christians and as Christian churches, I believe that, we have a very definite place in fighting both the stigma attached to mental illness and those who suffer from suicidal thoughts and to offering that hope that I speak of.

Not by offering cliches or well-worn snippets of scripture, and definitely not by offering judgmental or condemnatory remarks. But but offering love, understanding, support and encouragement to fight for the right to live and to live a life worth living.

As I said towards the beginning of this piece, I am a Christian and I am also someone who suffers from mental illness and suicidal thoughts as part of that mental illness. In truth my first suicide attempt was before I had even reached teenage years. My faith in Christ, which whilst I fully believe can for some provide total healing from both mental illness and suicidal thoughts, has not, thus far, removed them for me. BUT, and there is really no getting away from this, I am now some 51 years old and still here and still believing in Christ and still so very thankful that He has by the grace of God brought me through thus far.

Can Christ heal us – even from mental illness and suicidal ideology? Absolutely I believe He can! Is it guaranteed this side of heaven? No I do not believe that it is. And for me to say otherwise would be to lie to you and to God and I will not do that. My faith has not excluded me from mental illness or suicidal thoughts. BUT it, along with the love and support of my fellow believers, has brought me through both of them so far. And I praise and thank God for that.

Is there a place for the mentally ill and those who suffer with suicidal thoughts within the life of the modern church? Absolutely there is! But here is a better question for you – is there a place for the church within the lives of the mentally ill and those who suffer from suicidal thoughts?

Again I say there is and again I say that that place will only ever be truly secured, prayerfully, honestly and lovingly!

I saw this beautiful and yet sad picture over on FootSoldiers4Christ and it really impacted me!

I wonder what you see when you look at this picture?

A beautiful butterfly struggling with a rock?

A rock limiting a beautiful butterfly?

Is it a half glass empty v glass half full kind of question. Incidentally my normal answer to the question, “what do you say when you see a glass containing only half the amount of liquid it can contain – a) glass half empty or b) glass half full?” Is c) “Ok. which one of you scamps pinched half my drink?”

Actually the name of the above picture is “What is dragging you down?” Which I think kind of answers my question – at least in terms of what the person naming the picture thought.

So I ask that question next – what is dragging you down?

I have had a really wonderful day today. My son and his partner helped me with a big job that needed doing today and I am so grateful to them for doing so. But all through the day – despite the fact that our efforts were proceeding well and any obstacle encountered was moved or a way found around it (thank you Lord) – I have personally struggled.

Mentally I struggled with the voices and the negative internal dialogues. Physically I struggled with my health, the heat, my leg, and indeed my weight. These things were dragging me down, although I did what I could to hide it.

I also, along with much prayer, did what I could to fight through them and by the grace of God was able to.

So that is what I see when I see this picture. Neither a beautiful butterfly struggling with a rock nor a rock limiting a beautiful butterfly.

NO what I see is a beautiful butterfly taking flight despite the thing that tries to hinder it.

And that is my encouragement for each and every one of my readers today. “Yes we all have things which seem to drag us down or seek to limit us. But we don’t have to give in to them.“

I am blessed, extremely blessed to have a strong faith and a personal relationship with Christ. Through that and through the loving support of my brothers and sisters in Christ – especially at the church I attend (Wxccc) I gain; strength, encouragement, support and determination to go on.

So, as I make ready to turn in for the night, I leave you with that encouragement and with this adaptation of that wonderful picture…

OK so my leg isn’t really pregnant and yes I am fully aware of this. But I went, at my therapist’s request, to see my doctor yesterday and he advised me that I needed an ultrasound. And what is the first thing you think of when you hear the word “ultrasound” – yep pregnancy. Hence the weird thought pattern. But hey, sometimes you just have to see the funny side of things. 🙂

In essence the situation is that my leg needs therapy but the level of therapy that I can receive is dictated by my heart conditions.

So the position is that I have to get an ultrasound on my leg in order to dictate exactly what level of compression – which is all part of the treatment – I am safely allowed to have. And as the Doc advised me yesterday the ultrasound will also confirm the diagnosis of lymphedema and that it isn’t more cardiac related.

In the mean time – whilst I wait for the the ultrasound appointment to come through – he (my doctor) will be contacting the therapist and I should be able to at least start some sort of therapy.

So there is good news and not so good news on the whole leg issue. I have to be honest and admit that patience is not one of the things that I am abundantly gifted with, nor am I very good and sitting still and keeping the leg elevated as ordered. Although I am trying to be good in this respect.

It seriously cuts into the amount of time I can spend at the computer and this in turn really eats into the amount of time I can blog or write. And whilst laptops are fine, I just can’t seem to perch the laptop in such a position where I can write comfortably and have already tripped over the power cable on two previous attempts. So in the interest of health and safety I tend to avoid the whole laptop on the lap idea.

Of course when you experience poor mental health, and especially a schizophrenic condition, the voices and internal dialogues seem to latch onto such things and twist and magnify them in your mind – presenting a cocktail of all sorts of potential negative outcomes and accusatory jeers as to how you brought all this on yourself as a result of your weight.

Which of course there is some truth to. But then that is part of their trickery is it not? Using some basic truths (so that they have some credibility and are difficult to fully discount or refute) and then twisting and corrupting them beyond reason or rational thought.

It is often hard, for folk who do not have voices, to understand the full impact of them on the life of those who do. And I understand this, so in my blogs I try to demonstrate some of how these can impact us.

Actually, I am convinced that we all have internal dialogues and that for some of us, those internal dialogues can be such a negative thing. So imagine what they would be like if they were both a) constant and b) had an audible voice. Add to that the often grandiose almost delusional thoughts and frequently harmful thoughts an suggestions that they offer and perhaps you will get a better understanding of what it can be like.

Thankfully however, I am blessed with both a strong faith and an extremely logical mind. So I can at least (but no not always) reason things out to some extent.

But my heart goes out to those who suffer far worse than I do with such voices and thoughts. And my heart also goes out to the families and friends of those who suffer with schizophrenic conditions. I know from my own relationships just how frustrating our condition can be for those who love us.

But I am convinced that there is hope and that has to be there core message of my post this morning.

Whist it is, to some extent, true that our loved ones cannot directly penetrate those negative and harmful voices. They can influence them and they can impact them with; real, tangible, sensitive and constructive love.

I recognize the harmful and detrimental impacts and influences of both my voices and my internal dialogues and I praise God that I have both my faith and my logic in my armory and defenses.

But even more than this I thank the Lord for the wonderful family and church family that He has placed in my life and for the fact that God’s love knows no bounds. Not even my mental illness.

Well it has been a while since my last post and, as I was reminded, is probably way past time I posted an update 🙂

I have, as many of you will no doubt know, been having some serious issues with my leg and have been trying to get treatment for it and in the meantime have been ordered to keep it elevated as much as possible. Additionally the heatwave that we have been experiencing has only served to complicate matters – although I am delighted for all those who, unlike me, actually enjoy the heat 🙂

But having to keep my leg elevated has seriously impacted how much time I have been able to spend at my desk and at the computer and is partly responsible for my lack of posting recently.

The other reason for my lack of posting has been that what time I have been able to spend at the computer has been dedicated to getting some of my books edited and published.

I have been so touched, encouraged and in many ways humbled by the positive feedback that these are receiving and this has inspired me to wanting to get the series finished and out there so to speak. And I now have 9 books in the series out there on Amazon in paperback and kindle format – which is so encouraging, and I am now currently working on the 10th book whenever I am able. 🙂

In respect of my leg – or as I recently found out – my legs, since it seems that the other leg is also affected but to a much lesser and hardly noticeable level, I am still – despite my best efforts – awaiting news about when the treatment will start. Although I do have an appointment at the Foot Health Center on Friday which is at least something positive.

Mentally I find that my mind has been fairly tormented of late and that I am zoning in and out of depressive states more frequently. BUT the blessings are still there and thankfully, although tough to handle, these episodes have not been too lengthy. I never ceased to be amazed at how much God and my faith have brought me through and whilst the battle continues I know that I do not fight alone.

So there you have it, my update. I cannot say that things have not been tough as they have been. But what is more important is the fact that despite this I am still able to achieve things and that I know I am not alone in it all.

So my encouragement to you all, “No mater how hard it gets, keep on keeping on!”

Since it seems that I am unable to sleep tonight, although yes I am going to try again after I have posted this post, I thought that I would take a moment to post a quick update on what is happening with my leg as well a making an apology to all those who have posted such kind comments of late.

Firstly an apology – which of course is for my not having answered any of your comments of late. This was unavoidable really as I will explain whilst also giving my update.

I did manage to go to my appointment last Friday and indeed got a very positive prognosis providing of course that I do my bit.

I have to keep using the cream that I have been using to treat the skin and there were marked signs of improvement – which of course was encouraging as this was the biggest threat to the leg as it meant that the lymphatic fluids were either near to or beginning to leak through the skin.

I have been so very blessed by all the prayers and support in respect of this and am delighted to be able to say that when my son and his partner checked the leg for me this morning both he and she commented on how very much better it looked.

In respect of the swelling itself and the possible treatment that I can get for this I am still waiting to hear just what treatment I am able to receive. As many of you know I have a heart condition and some treatments are contraindicated for someone with a heart condition and even if I am able to have the treatment that is being considered the level of treatment is dependent on my doctor and so that is what is being decided at the moment.

Hopefully I will hear about this in the next few days. Additional to all this but still part of it, because I am also diabetic and because I am diabetic I also have to see a chiropodist and the earliest appointment that I am able to get for this locally is not until the end of the month and so we are trying to see if we can arrange an appointment slightly further afield and members of my church have kindly agreed to try to provide transport for this.

In the mean time – in order to safeguard the leg and address the swelling I am wearing a compression bandage and having to keep my leg elevate as much as possible – this has meant that the time I am able to spend at my desk on the computer is extremely limited and this is the reason for the lack of posts and indeed the lack of responses to your very kind comments.

One slightly surprising piece of news from my appointment is that whereas I thought that only one leg was affected it seems that there are early signs that the other leg is also becoming affected.

This is of course concerning but not too concerning as I am confident that once everything is sorted in respect of my heart condition and its implications on the type and level of treatment I can have, this will also be addressed.

In the mean time I am doing my bit by keeping my leg elevated as much as possible, using the creams regularly and wearing the compression bandages. I am also extremely blessed as my church have very kindly contributed to the cost of the treatment that I will have to have over the forth coming weeks.

So there you have it both my sincere apologies for not having posted or responded to your kind comments and indeed an update on how much more positive things seem.

I also want very much to thank everyone for their kind prayers. I have said many times over that without my faith I would be dead by now and I make that statement in all honesty and with no exaggeration at all.

My faith is so very important to me and I am convinced that the progress that is already being seen is in no small part down to those prayers and to God’s grace. When all this came about I prayed so very hard about it and determined that I would stand on God’s word and rest in His love over all this and that is what I have tried to do.

As soon as I have more news as to the exact treatment I will post again but until then please forgive me lack of posting, but I am determined to keep my leg elevated as much as possible which means that the time I actually do get to spend at the computer is used for other things such as emails and managing the websites that I manage for folk.

I haven’t been posting very much lately and I apologize for that but I promise you there have been good reasons and not least of them being that I have needed to keep my leg elevated. So sitting at my desk has been difficult and limited.

It is Friday evening and I am so very tired. Sleeping has been so very difficult of late for several different reasons. Even so I am trying to remain positive and to ‘keep on keeping on’ as they say.

Yesterday was my birthday and I really did have a pleasant day. My son and his partner came over and bought me probably one of the most thoughtful presents I have ever received – which I am going to keep secret for the time being but will share about in a later post some time down the line.

I managed to keep my birthday a secret from most folks – which always pleases me – and I also managed to get some personal correspondence written. It has been on my mind to write it for some time now but things kept seeming to get in the way.

In my last post “Days of The Crows” I explained how the voices have been at me of late. I mentioned some of the misunderstandings, falsehoods and the such that have been upsetting me but what I didn’t mention was the underlying environment in which this has all happened. Mostly because I needed to get my head into a place where I could rationally talk about it.

Regular readers will know that I have for some years now suffered from extremely poor health and as a result of this (well mostly as a result of this) have had a constant battle with my weight. The more regular reader will know that I also have a condition in my leg which make it swell up from time to time and then go down and stay relatively down (and relatively normal) at other times.

Over the past few months however I have noticed that it has not been going down and in fact has remained constantly swollen. Over the past 10 days or so not only has the leg been swollen – far more than usual – but the foot on that leg has also become swollen – so much so that even if I can managed to struggle and force my shoe on it I can’t do the thing up.

Additionally the skin in one area at least (I can’t see all of the leg) is starting to break down, which I was warned is the early signs of atrophy and which could very well be the beginning of the end for that leg and might lead to amputation.

I don’t even know how fast that process happens once it has started.

It’s a very scary thought isn’t it?

I mean I try to do all that I can – I have been applying the moisturizer where I can – (not only can I not see all the leg I also can’t reach it all) but whilst the skin damage is still (I hope) in the early stage, it does mean that the breaking down process has begun. Which, trust me, is both very scary and very worrying.

Apart from one or two close friends at church (and I do mean only one or two) an of course my kids/family, I have not been able to speak about this up until now as somehow the more you speak about it the more real it becomes. But over the past day or so I have decided that not speaking about it isn’t fair.

I had promised – when starting this blog – that I would, within reason, be honest and open in my writing and who knows there may be others out there who are going through the same thing.

The good news is (and yes I always try to see the good no matter how bad things appear) that I have an appointment on Monday and will be able to get some expert advice on it and I am hoping and praying (and yes please do pray if you have a faith) that the prognosis will not be as bad as my mind thinks (and the voices say) it is.

The truth is however that I just don’t know an will not know until Monday. But even so, I do have my faith and I do get such strength from that.

And I know that whatever happens He will bring me through this!

I probably won’t be posting much over the weekend but hopefully that is just because I am being sensible. I can post from my iPhone and of course answer comments but if honest I find that difficult and so will probably only answer the occasional comments from there.

But whatever happens I will post on or around Monday and let you know how I got on. Until then remember God is good and I have absolute faith in Him and in His love.

I found this picture over at my-walls.net and it really is appropriate for this post 🙂

Whilst a different location and indeed not a photo I myself have taken it is very similar of a scene that I know so very well. A group (or murder) of crows suddenly flying up out of a field.

Look out of my study window and across the road you will see a field (although not as pretty as the one in the photo) and very often there are crows in that field. They sit, walk, peck and feed on it quite contentedly.

Not many people really know they are there (except the field itself of course) until there is a sudden noise (kids shouting or a car back-firing) and suddenly they all rise up, en-mass, at hover in frantic flight, cawing as they do so!

Like I said, it is a scene that I know so very well! But not only in reality also within my head where my mind is the field and the crows are the voices that I hear.

Voices which not many people know they are there except my mind of course on which they continually sit, walk, peck and feed quite contentedly.

But for these dark hallucinatory birds of vocal accusations and ridicule to take frantic flight en-mass there needs be no sudden loud noise just arguments, unjust criticism, false accusations, illogical misunderstandings.

It started with an innocent comment made by a fellow blogger, then came an accusation made in email and the ensuing discussions where the truth finally came out, followed by yet another understanding and folk assuming and then accusing me of feeling and reacting totally differently to how I actually was.

But these things happen don’t they? Misunderstandings, incorrect assumptions, insensitive behavior? And in truth, whilst we might do all we can to reduce them, we cannot stop them.

Much like the voices – those sinister black crows which take frantic flight and hover and caw for days to follow – these things will happen.

Courtesy of wall321.com no copyright infringement intended. –

Trust me, if I had a gun and the necessary ammunition, I would shoot each and everyone of the voices, those crows – out of my life, my mind.

And yet we do in some ways have that gun and the necessary ammunition don’t we? We have the truth and rational thinking and whilst this may not completely rid us of our crows (the voices) they can reduce them and come against them. (2 Corinthians 10:5)

Courtesy of tn disckerson diaries over at blogspot, no copyright infringement intended.

Of course we don’t all suffer with schizophrenic voices do we? But we do all to some degree or another have internal dialogues going on don’t we? And we all do, generally speaking, have access to the truth and to rational thinking.

So yes it may have been a difficult few days, days of the crows, but I , for one am getting my ammunition and am going to be looking forward to clearer skies 🙂

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